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whatwashernameagain · 5 years ago

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Keep him safe - Chapter 33

You can read the previous Chapters here: Ch 1, Ch 5, Ch 10, Ch 15, Ch 20, Ch 25, Ch 30, previous chapter, Ao3 Link, Lo’s, Pat’s and Virgil’s aesthetics, You are Magical, I’m dying to be with you, The Dreamer

Pairings: Logan/Patton, Roman/Virgil

Words: 12.491

Warnings: feeling everyone is against you, self-hate, cursing, mentioned addiction, mentioned past bullying

Summary: Detective Logan Sanders and his best friend and dorky partner Roman Prince have made a dear friend in the lovely pattisier Patton. Logan however, feels a lot more than friendship for the sweet man, even though he knows he cannot possibly have him. Their routine is broken abruptly when Logan finds bruises on Patton’s fair skin and slender wrists he could hardly have received from his costumary clumsiness. Meanwhile his partner Roman has his own demon to fight, which comes in the form of a little delinquent who seemed to have been pulled into a street gang quite against his will. Roman is determined to help the strange young man. It would be so much easier though if he just stopped hissing at him!

Notes: Thanks so much to my betas @spootilious and @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 for your continuous support and WELCOME TO ALL THE NEW PEOPLE WHO JOINED THE DISCORS SERVER! I am so happy you are all here! Anyone can join: Invitation:https://discord.gg/Y2WNAND

Also I thought I’d get out my stuffy Ko-fi page again since the story is two years old now and eating up huge portions of my life, in case anyone wants to support me. Reblogs and comments are just as welcome, though ;)

Chapter 33

Knowing how awkward Logan had been the first few days of waking up after a sleepover, and fearing an even worse reaction with Patton after falling asleep tangeld around each other, Roman cautiously chose to peek into the silent room the next morning. He was a valiant hero, after all. He would save his partner.

Upon finding them still asleep - and fully dressed - Roman stormed the room and cheerfully forced himself between them, asking for kisses and breakfast and knowing full well there would have been an awful lot of stuttering and apologizing on both sides without his glittering presence. He grinned smugly as Patton sleepily giggled and snuggled into his arms.

Upon entering the kitchen, Virgil softly asked Patton if he was okay, as he had every morning now that the baker thought about it. Logan on the other hand flushed and tiptoed around him until Patton cornered him.

“I’m sorry for making you worry.” He apologized once they had a moment to themselves and were able to settle down with some tea and cocoa, respectively, on the couch. Knowing Logan needed to have things explained carefully, he tried to put his stupid emotions into words that would cause as little harm as possible.

“You didn’t do anything wrong at all, it’s all me! I just got so used to having things go bad every once in a while, when I do something dumb, that I started to expect it. I sometimes – I don’t know - I keep seeing bad things that aren’t there. It’s silly. I’m sorry.” Patton rambled, curling around his warm mug.

“Your responses are far from silly, Patton. Please do not belittle yourself for your emotions.” Logan responded gently. His voice was deep and warm. He gazed at Patton’s pale, small hands quietly, at the light falling onto his silky curls, at his smooth, lovely face. His chest felt full with longing. The patissier was radiant in the sunlight bathing him, making him look bright and innocent and so brave. Logan could hardly breathe with how much he felt, suddenly. With how much he wanted Patton’s happiness. The urge to make things right was like an entity on its own, pushing at his ribcage, urging him to speak. He selected his words carefully.

“Something must have caused your worries. It would calm me greatly to understand which behaviors have caused you to respond the way you did so I may prevent them in the future. I truly wish to make you feel safe in this flat. Please support me in my endeavor to understand.”

Patton couldn’t help but feel stupid and guilty as he was confronted with such honest, unjudging support. He swallowed hard. The difference between the image he had made up and the man begging him to be allowed to take care of him couldn’t be more obvious. Logan’s dark eyes were so warm when he looked at him. He wasn’t smiling or complimenting him, or telling him how great he was and promising him gifts and such, but Patton still felt like he mattered more than he ever had. Logan’s attention was entirely focused on him, his tall form angled towards Patton, as if he were everything he cared about.

He wanted to apologize again and tell the detective that it was all his fault, that he shouldn’t worry. He also knew that Logan had developed a talent for seeing through his excuses. He wouldn’t be satisfied until Patton had told him how to help.

“It really isn’t your fault, Logan. Please believe me! It’s all in my confused head, you can’t help it when I make things up. And it’s not just you anyway, which shows how much silliness I’m coming up with - you really can’t trust my little head.”

“I do not understand. Did somebody else make you uncomfortable?” Logan asked, straightening in alarm. Patton felt like he had been shoved in the chest. It took him a moment to realize that the fact that Logan had automatically assumed he alone was to blame had hurt. Why was it that they wanted to care for each other so badly and still kept rubbing each other the wrong way? Patton just wanted - he just wanted to give Logan so much. He wanted to touch him in ways that made him smile, not doubt himself.

“Well, it really is all me, when If I’m being really honest!” Patton hastened to remind him. “But I guess it’s really – whenever someone fights or makes loud noises or – or argues about something and gets angry – and that’s okay of course! It’s all my fault and you are not doing anything wrong, it’s all in my head! But- that just, it just makes me an itty bit anxious, you know? I mean- you probably don’t, being a strong detective and all. I just worry that you guys might get in a fight or that I did something wrong. I do that plenty after all. But like I said, it’s all me being oversensitive, you should just laugh about it and go on with your day. I’m sorry for being a bother!”

Logan grew very silent after Patton’s explanation. Sightlessly staring at the tea in his hands, he tried to categorize the exchanges of the last weeks in the apartment. He had thought that they were all happy here. There hadn’t been any fights, any dramatic outbreaks or terrible mistakes he needed to fix. Virgil had grown so confident and Roman was happy. The pets were healthy and he had thought… he had thought Patton had everything he wanted. What arguments had upset the gentle man? Roman and him had been getting along as well as always. Virgil hadn’t had any visible adverse reactions to his therapy that he could think of either and he was clearly growing closer to Roman.

Had he been angry? Had he fought with one of them and hadn’t seen the effect it had on Patton? He just couldn’t understand what his friend was referring to for a long moment. Everything had been going so smoothly between him and the others. What could he have been doing that would be considered aggressive by a victim of abuse, such as the pâtissier?

It dawned to him quite abruptly. He’d been angry indeed. Just this morning he had grabbed Roman and growled at him for being dramatic and causing them stress over his gloves. His irritating partner had been howling about it too. Loudly. He had hardly noticed the sheer amount of noise he was making anymore; or the fact that he, himself, was apparently constantly frustrated with him. He didn’t mean it, after all.

The realization that Logan was indeed annoyed at one thing or another all the time came as a shock to him. He had been so content. He hadn’t noticed…

It was so natural for him to complain and lecture others, especially Roman, who liked to have his attention. It was part of their dynamic. He liked to grumble and his partner liked to wail and whimper and demand he be treated with admiration and given the pity his various plights deserved. They bickered like siblings because this was what had gotten them close to each other in the beginning of their friendship, when they hadn’t felt comfortable enough to ask for friendly cuddles. It was their way. He showed his affection in this manner. Whenever he grabbed Roman, his friend would lean into him or playfully wiggle about, letting him carry his weight. When he wanted to initiate contact, he woefully sighed or whimpered and draped himself over Logan. They shoved and bickered and roughhoused with each other to show their mutual affection and wish for contact.

Had Patton seen something he had missed? What if he had misinterpreted their interactions all those years? Was Logan actually insulting Roman? Was he unhappy as well? Was he secretly resenting him?

What about Virgil? He’d been so hurt and disappointed by the men he’d trusted. Did he feel threatened?

Logan felt like a sudden weight pressed on his chest. It hurt so badly he flinched from the sudden rush of agony. He drew a sharp breath, trying to control his twisting features. He was suddenly afraid he would start to cry and be absolutely helpless to stop it. Biting the inside of his cheek hard, he barely managed to place the tea on the table. His hands were shaking. He had to compose himself. Losing control and falling apart in front of Patton would be too much to bear.

His thoughts kept circling, defying his attempts to force them into order. What had he done? He couldn’t think clearly. His breath hitched. He felt like everyone was looking at him. Like they were talking about him, wishing he was gone. Like they used to in school, like the other children used to, wherever he went. He had thought they had been getting along. He had thought they had liked him – he’d tried so hard to always help with their exercises and tell them about the things he cared about, he had thought that they wanted to hear- but he’d misread the situation. He just couldn’t understand them. The shock of learning he had been hated by the other students in his class without even knowing, it had felt nothing like the possibility of having forced his family to live with a man that hurt them.

His mind was racing, churning up more and more scenarios that horrified him. There were so many reasons why they could feel forced to stay with him, to pretend they liked the man that was actually making them miserable. Virgil had nowhere to go. He would have to accept any situation that kept him out of harm’s way or out of prison, and Logan had been the key to his freedom. Roman needed someone to look after him, being all alone in the world without a steady presence, who else would he have turned to, but the man who’d bullied him into living with him? Patton had been pulled out of the steady relationship that had been his life and was now essentially homeless, helpless to go anywhere else, for fear of the man that might be waiting for him, not even able to rent his own place since his finances were still entangled with that man’s. Was it like the last time, where he had been the one that alienated everyone, the one who didn’t understand when he hurt feelings, the one everyone talked about behind his back? Was he suddenly going to be alone again? Before Roman, he had eventually given up. He had isolated himself to protect himself from this feeling, certain he couldn’t bear it a second time. And he had been right. His chest felt like something was breaking.

He stumbled as he rose, barely seeing what was in front of him through his blurred vision. He couldn’t be looked at anymore. Every look felt like an assault. He needed to hide.

“I’m sorry. Please- please excuse me. I am so sorry.” He stuttered, shakily wiping his eyes and nearly losing his glasses. He hit his shin on the edge of the coffee table but kept going, feeling his face heat with shame.

“Logan, wait please! What’s wrong? I’m sorry I upset you, please-” Patton pleaded. He was frightened. Logan had scared him and now he was trying to placate him so he wouldn’t hurt him again-

This was too much.

Logan stumbled into the corridor, feeling panic well up in him. There were footsteps behind him, following him. He barely made it to the bedroom and slammed the door behind him too loudly. He hadn’t meant to do that! Every sound he made was too loud, he was doing everything wrong and he hadn’t even noticed.

He hardly managed to turn the key with his shaking hands, needing the little bit of security it afforded him like the air he breathed. Tears were streaming down his face now. He couldn’t stop remembering Patton’s fear when he had reached out to him in his flat, broken and bleeding. What had he put him through after he’d thought he had rescued him? He’d thought he had finally learned to understand, but everything he believed was wrong again.

He sank down against the door, covering his ears with his hands so hard the way he squished his glasses against his skull hurt, rocking back and forth in his curled-up position. It was too much. Everything felt overwhelming to him!

There were voices on the other side of the door, loud and rushed.

“The fuck happened, man?” Virgil growled. Stress was making his voice rougher than intended. He had seen Logan flee from the room, completely out of it and couldn’t help the tide of protective anger.

Patton flinched, backing away from the door. His eyes were bright.

“I- I don’t know! I messed up, I think. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, Virgil!” He cried, hugging himself and looking smaller than he had in weeks.

Fuck.

Virgil took a deep, calming breath and told himself not to be an asshole for once.

“It’s okay, Pat. I’m sorry I yelled. I’m, like, really fucking anxious right now, but I’m sure you didn’t do anything wrong. It happens. I’m not mad at you, man. Please, just- Roman, deal with this?” He asked, knowing when he reached his limit with emotional bullshit. His worry for Logan was already too much and seeing Patton hurt was frankly agonizing. It was more than he could bear. Roman would stay calm and be big and gentle and reassuring no matter what was wrong. He was amazing like that – nothing like Logan and him, who were, if he were quite honest, a mess when if came to vulnerable, emotional shit.

“Hey, it’s all good dearest Patton.” Roman crooned at the frazzled baker softly, reaching out to him with hands that were so tender. “Why don’t you come with me and we’ll hug it out? Our brilliant Virgil will fix everything and we fabulous darlings will get ourselves some well-deserved cuddles. Sounds good?”

Patton didn’t really get a chance to worry about making a decision since the detective was already bundling him up in the warmest embrace, tugging his little body against his bigger one. Roman allowed them a moment to rub his cheek against soft curls and hum a soothing melody.

Having moved them both back to the couch, he made sure to pull the smaller body between his legs and wrap him all up in his embrace. Keeping up a calming chatter, he rubbed his hands over the slender back and through his hair, hoping to slow his frightened little heart.

“I’ve got you, sweetest Patton. No one is angry at you. All will be well, I promise. We love you. Take a deep breath for me, okay? Logan will be just fine. We’ll always fix everything together and no one will be hurt or mad. We’re a family, we’ll get over the drama and have cocoa. That’s it.”

His voice was deeper and softer than usual, lacking all of the shrill, loud notes that had recently made Patton’s nerves flutter fearfully. He sounded certain and loving. Squeezing his eyes shut, he listened to his tender words.

Virgil pressed his ear against the wood, trying to determine what to do. He couldn’t hear Logan at all and he didn’t want to upset him even more by demanding anything. Should he call Remy and make him talk to the detective? His phone was out here though, and he’d need to get him to open the door first.

Pushing the emotional mess onto someone else sounded so tempting, but he knew Logan would be ashamed to talk to his old friend like that. Also, he had an idea about what had happened. Patton had grown frightened of- everything, really. He was starting to put it together properly only now that he had seen just how afraid he’d just looked. He guessed the same insecurity he had gone through himself had to be expected. But of course, it would be different for Patton. Virgil had thought Logan was the right one to fix it because- because he had fixed everything for him. He trusted the man so much because he gave him so much more stability and safety than he had ever experienced before. His touch always felt safe to Virgil and he always trusted him to listen and understand, because the way their minds worked was so similar in a way.

He was a fucking idiot.

Logan was acting like a father to him, platonically loving him and protecting him. His touch was safe. Virgil’s expectations towards him were safe. But to Patton, he was something else. Patton had been abused by the man he’d loved, so the relapse would of course make him project onto Logan most because he was closest to a romantic partner. The baker liked him. Their cuddles, despite how innocent and well intended, were never as platonic as Virgil’s and Logan’s. Of course he would think that if anyone was going to grow abusive as he clearly expected, it would be the man he unconsciously saw as a potential lover. If he kept projecting the fear that asshat had instilled in him onto Logan, they were in for quite a ride.

Virgil sighed. He should have seen this coming. He was such a fucking idiotic idiot.

If Patton had told Logan he was scared of him, Logan would overthink for sure – because he was also an idiot. He was probably in there thinking everyone was afraid of him and feeling like he had run over a baby bird or some shit. Someone with a pathological need to help would of course spiral right into self-hate. Hello, old friend.

Well, Virgil was nothing if not a manipulative bitch.

“Logan?” He called softly, knocking on the door far more quietly than he wanted to.

“Logan, you’re scaring me. Please let me in! I’m worried you’ll hurt yourself, I can’t lose you too. Please let me in!” He begged, making his voice high and frightened and feeling absolutely no remorse whatsoever for once.

The door was fumbled open as soon as his apparently fearful words had left his lips. The fucking sap.

Logan was disheveled and looked like he’d tried to wipe his tears off to hide them. He looked heartbroken and painfully shy. And he’d still opened the door because of Virgil’s pleading.

Fuck him, Virgil loved him so much.

He gave the startled, wide eyed man a hard push in the chest, angry at being forced to feel so much. How dare he think Virgil didn’t love him?!

“You’re such a- a fucking-”

He lunged at him and buried his face in the conservative sweater, squeezing so hard Logan wheezed for breath.

“You’re such a moron, man! Now hug me!” He demanded, holding on for dear life. Clearly utterly confused, Logan obeyed unsteadily.

“You clueless idiot.” Virgil growled into the cable-knit, hating how wet his voice sounded. Why was there always so much fucking drama in this flat?!

“Shake all those stupid thoughts out of your head and listen to me, okay? You don’t get to be a paranoid piece of shit, that’s my job!”

Logan drew a breath to complain and Virgil just knew he would try to tell him that he very much was not an idiot and that Virgil was not allowed to insult himself. Well, Virgil wasn’t going to let him turn this around onto him. However, he wished he was better at this. He wished he could just drop this emotional mess into Remy’s lap and hide under the covers where he could come to terms with how uncomfortably much he cared for Logan. He squeezed him tighter – effectively cutting him off before he could speak – pressing himself as close as he possibly could. There were no words for the things he felt. Patton and Roman probably had some; plenty, in fact. He didn’t, and neither did Logan. But his hands were uncertainly brushing over his back and Virgil liked that helpless, platonic affection very, very much.

“You absolute dimwit! Don’t ever think we don’t – that we don’t – we want to be here with you, okay? I trust you and I never trust anyone, cause I’m not a moron who adopts people, but I trust you so fucking much and I’ve had to make too many fucking confessions lately; so can you please just believe that we are your family and that Roman wants to be your fucking puppy; and Patton is messed up beyond belief but he’s fricking enamored with you; and that I’d really like to end this conversation right now, alright?? Don’t make me say anything else or I’ll knock myself out on that dresser!”

Unsurprisingly, Logan was at a loss for words. Not that he could have said much, considering how tightly Virgil was currently squeezing his ribcage. His little delinquent’s hug really was quite aggressive.

He didn’t feel frightened either. His face – as much as Logan could see of it – was bright red. The poor thing was clearly embarrassed and tired of baring his feelings this way. Logan couldn’t shake his insecurity, though. He could feel obligated to calm him, after all. Virgil was so dependent on him. Feeling lost and just wishing he could bury his face in the once again tangled, purple hair he liked to groom, Logan tried to make his embrace as safe and comfortable as possible to his little charge. How he wanted to protect him from the world. The frame under his hands was still so thin and slender. He didn’t know how to articulate the rush of warmth he felt. He wanted to ask more questions, desperate to be reassured the things he wished for so dearly were true, but he felt Virgil’s tiredness, and he shared it. Trying to understand the way people talked - silent and illogical just with their bodies and gestures and the insinuations he failed to understand – it was still confusing to him sometimes, and when he thought he had gotten something wrong, he tended to overanalyze every interaction he had had with that person until he didn’t trust himself anymore. He was just tired.

Embarrassed and stressed out of his mind, Virgil hid his face in their embrace and wished he could just crawl under the heavy, dark covers of his bed right now - the bed Logan had given him with all the books and space for his things and that citrus geranium that endlessly frustrated him with its wilting leaves. Pitying the poor, nerdy fool for his useless attempts, Virgil had started programming a sensor to monitor the plant’s humidity and sunlight intake for Logan. He had grown worried about the amount of annoyance that one dying plant caused the detective, okay? He didn’t want the dude paying his metaphorical rent to have a fucking stroke, that was all. And maybe he just wanted him to be happy. He had thought it might be something they could do together, though he hadn’t dared approach him about it yet. He didn’t want to annoy Logan with his nerdy ideas, and he hadn’t done something like this in so long. If his fucked-up mind made him mess this up he could never live it down. However, Remy’s voice telling him to quit being a drama queen and like, gush with the other massive nerd about his nerdy projects was clear in his memory. He didn’t want to talk feelings anymore. He wanted to huddle together with Logan and just fucking lose himself in something that made sense. Was it too much to ask to just be together? He thought that perhaps, it actually wasn’t.

Making a decision, Virgil suddenly used his wiry muscles to push his body against Logan’s, toppling them onto the bed. He wasn’t going to talk this out. No sir, not this time. They both needed a fucking break.

Logan huffed in surprise, especially since he was unexpectedly being pushed around by sharp elbows and bony shins until he had been shuffled into a position where Virgil could comfortably tuck himself under his arm and lay his head on his shoulder. Wrestling his phone out of his hoodie’s pocket, the younger man pulled up a still blank looking app that showed little else but two buttons on a white screen.

“Wanna show you something.” Virgil muttered half into his wool sweater before launching into an explanation about the app he was programming. Logan was instantly intrigued. Wrapping his arm around his little one, he pulled Virgil close to navigate the still almost empty display with him, getting lost in the fluttering, enthusiastic feeling a fascinating project gave him. Virgil’s app could monitor the factors influencing growth and compare them to different locations in the flat or different amounts of moisture in the soil. Perhaps this way he could finally attempt to grow a lemon tree once again. He’d failed three times before giving up. The Failure still irked him.

Before long, both men had comfortably cuddled together, discussing the advantages of a stainless-steel sensor as opposed to the inferior plastic ones other projects were using. Virgil was warm and small in his arm. His muscles were loose and he made sure to push and shove at Logan when he wanted to curl up more or wanted a certain space. Everything about him spoke of trust.

Though Logan attempted to keep his touch respectful, being acutely aware of the fears that could awaken in his little charge, Virgil gave him no signals of discomfort. His heart beat steadily where his chest was pressed against Logan’s side and his breathing was even and calm. He sounded pleased when Logan complimented his ideas. Undoubtedly, Roman would be able to tell him if he really as relaxed as the factors he was monitoring were suggesting. He could see it all from nothing but a look.

Roman never failed to tell him when he had messed up or needed to back off. Didn’t that speak of confidence? They had some difficult conversations about his actions in the past and his partner had always trusted him to tell him the truth. Certainly, he had told him plenty of times that he was limiting Roman’s heroic brilliance or ruining his entrance and such, but he had never complained about feeling hurt by Logan. Wouldn’t he at least have told him? But what about Patton? He had always suffered in silence rather than asking for help – or to stop.

Logan gasped as bony fingers stabbed him in the side.

“You’re thinking too loudly, dude.” Virgil complained, feeling ignored. He shouldn’t be surprised Logan needed things spelled out for him. He was Logan after all.

Sighing as if he was forced to do something terrible by disentangling out of the embrace that had been warm and really fucking nice, he rose without much enthusiasm and yanked on Logan’s arm.

“C’mon, you poor sod. Let Roman tell you how much he loves you. He might want to lick your face.”

“There will be no need for any of that.” The detective grumbled, reluctantly letting the smaller man pull him along. He didn’t know if he would be brave enough to face Patton without the aggressive interference. His face grew hot at the memory of the way he had fallen apart in front of him. He felt quite humiliated by his reaction. Patton had trusted him with his fears and he had made it all about himself and had made a fool of himself. Without the control he protected himself with he felt vulnerable. Naked even, as if his defenses had been torn away. This wasn’t how he’d wanted to be seen.

Feeling his friend’s feet drag with shame, Virgil wrapped an arm around Logan’s middle and offered him strength through their silent contact. He still did not want to talk about feelings, it was exhausting, but he could always lend the support of his body. He was learning to use it in different ways, lately.

Patton and Roman both sat up straight as they entered the living-room. From the way Logan hung his head in the futile attempt to hide his blush, it was clear to Roman what his friend needed now. It was his favorite partner’s love!

Giving Patton an encouraging pat on the shoulder on the way, the young detective wasted no time wrapping Logan (and Virgil – who was conveniently wrapped in Logan’s arm, sue him) into his embrace. His little wildcat gave an irritated little growl but since he was largely ignored in favor of pecking annoying kisses all over his partner’s face, he let the cuddling slide. After all, they both smelled good and were comfy and shit.

Logan turned his heated face away into Virgil’s hair, grumbling incoherently. He was too hot under the sweater and starting to get the feeling he needn’t have worried about Roman and Virgil after all. The little barista was comfortably leaning against him, letting him take his weight, and his partner was – he was reasonably certain – trying to annoy him in order to lighten the mood. He had overreacted once again. They must think him a dramatic child. He felt very, very inadequate.

Perceptive as always, Roman angled them so his friend could hide his burning cheeks from sight. The poor man was probably mortified at showing emotions in front of the people who regularly suffered emotional accidents around him.

“All is well now, my adoring fans. Prince Roman, beloved hero and winner of the Medal of Valor is here!” He cooed, hoping to get a rise out of them and lighten the mood. Virgil snorted. He made sure to push himself close to Logan and allow him to feel the way he was holding on to his sweater for support.

Virgil would have liked to stay in this position longer and allow Roman to take the weight of the attention onto his broad shoulders, but Patton was still cowering at the edge of the sofa, wide eyed and anxious. His shoulders seemed very small. Though he was entirely silent, his small hands were nervously fidgeting with his long sleeves. He looked lost.

The barista ached with pain for his friend. He had put himself through years of abuse to shield his piece of shit boyfriend and had blamed himself for his issues whenever he was suffering of whatever bullshit he got himself into. Patton was all about saving people. Having hurt someone he loved must be the worst kind of torture for him. Add to that the fear of retribution and he must be in one hell of a mess. And of course Virgil had attacked him after Logan’s little breakdown. Of course he had.

Though he was torn about forcing Logan to face his fear of having frightened the baker, Virgil gently tried to free himself from the tangled embrace, which wasn’t easy since he was squished in the middle.

Being especially weary about restricting his youngest guest, Logan immediately released the shorter man from under his arm, pulling his limbs close to his chest. Roman pounced and pulled his partner in again, humming to him lovingly. He would be patient to take this one step at the time.

Virgil was feeling less than patient, to be quite honest. Why did they keep stepping into piles of emotional shit when all they wanted was to live quietly with each other and sometimes ogle Roman’s ass? (that might just be him, though) He just wanted Logan and Patton and Roman - the fucking, special dork - to be allowed to be fine. Was that too much to ask?!

Of course, despite Virgil wanting nothing but to protect his friend, Patton saw the frustration written clearly all over the slim features of the moody young man. His breath hitched.

Aw shit.

Virgil may be emotionally stunted to the point of still kind of hating Remy for making him want to talk to him, but he wasn’t blind. Especially to Patton. It was easy to see why he was ending up in those emotion-shitpiles. He kept aiming for them and jumped right in. He’d thought Patton would focus on Logan because – well, he still remembered being scared out of his mind as he had sat at his desk, cuffed and desperate and Logan had been furious about the pain of his partner. It had made sense, too. Logan was the responsible adult in the flat and Pat was used to the men responsible for him to turn on him, but it wasn’t just him. Virgil was doing it too, and more often than he had noticed initially.

Making sure to appear nonthreatening – which normally wasn’t hard, considering how hunched and slim he still was, he pulled his sleeves over his hands and looked at Patton through his purple bangs. The baker swallowed visibly and attempted to smile at him, uncertainly.

“Look, Pat, can we talk? It’s all good though. I wanna apologize. You’re not in trouble. ‘s fine.” He mumbled, looking down at his shoes. Swallowing hurt, suddenly. His throat felt tight.

Patton didn’t speak. He was very pale.

‘You can do this.’ Virgil reminded himself as old, familiar pain rose in him upon being surrounded by suffering loved ones. ‘You took care of your mom and you’ll take care of him now. You can fix this. Just start somewhere.’

“Um, I – I think I messed up, I guess. ‘m sorry, man. I was really out of line before and I think I kinda scared you just now. Can we, um – can we talk about that? Please?”

Apparently finding the courage to speak in the face of Virgil’s scratchy voice, Patton finally responded with forced cheer in his voice.

“Don’t you worry, kiddo! It’s all fine! There’s nothing to worry about. I get a little messy sometimes but that’s all my fault. You all don’t need to take it on your shoulders, please don’t do that! I’m really sorry for upsetting you all! This whole thing is my fault – please, just ignore me and don’t let silly little me worry you! I’m really sorry.” He rambled, glancing at Logan still squished in Roman’s embrace. He bit his lip, his eyes suspiciously bright, before he smiled at Virgil once again. Seeing Logan hide in his partner’s arms, clearly feeling too ashamed to face them, appeared to unbalance him.

Yes, Virgil got that. Logan was supposed to be strong and seeing him insecure hurt in all kinds of ways that resonated deep in Virgil, pulling sharply at old wounds. Seeing the person you relied on weak and helpless cut you as if you were a child losing the protection of a parent. It never stopped hurting. Roman had situation that figured out, though. He joked quietly with his partner and finally simply pulled them both to the ground like a playful child, ignoring the complaints, and settled them against the bookshelves covering the first part of the living-room. Nicodemus had clambered onto the lowest shelf and wanted attention. With a little hop, he jumped onto his human’s shoulder, quieting his annoyance.

Hidden half behind the couch and visually separated from the others by the wooden beams loosely enclosing the little library, Roman finally managed to give his friend a bit of security by offering the safety of his large body to lean against. They were still close enough to be there for the others and later reassure Logan, but for now he had a moment to compose himself again.

That worked fine for Virgil. He didn’t know how he would have been expected to ignore the terrible fear for his protector, had Roman not calmly and sweetly taken over soothing him. Come to think of it, maybe the dork had the right idea with the cuddly, comfy shit.

“Um, hey… how about we sit and figure it out together, okay?” He offered tentatively. The kitten and Cat were on the couch as well, unravelling a ball of string and in Cat’s case trying to bite it into submission for tangling around her little hand-paws.

Patton nodded obediently, quickly rushing to clean up a place for them by tidying away Roman’s drawings and his knitting needles. Whatever progress he seemed to have made with Logan yesterday seemed to have crumbled in the face of actually making their most reliable protector crumble from his words. Virgil knew those moments where no amount of rationality could cut through the pain of having failed the person you love. Even if you had given up your education, your dreams, your time and health and safety, every failure replayed in your mind, pressing you down with guilt.

Virgil tried to swallow his memories through the heaviness in his chest. He ran a suddenly shaking hand over his face. He had relied on Logan and Patton so much to give him strength and structure and confidence and now one of them was still silently cowering on the floor, uncharacteristically small and fearful of the confrontation with Patton and still flushed hot with shame, and the other looked at him like he expected him to shout. His Patton. It was a position he had never expected to be in, anymore. One of the reasons he had left the Scorpions was because he couldn’t forget the pale, frightened face of the slight baker and now they were back, full circle, knee deep in a pile of emotional shit.

“Hey, no no no, c’mere, kiddo.” Patton cooed suddenly. His hands were still warm while Virgil’s had grown weak and cold. He pulled Virgil on the couch with him and without hesitation, into his arms. His little body folded against the barista like a cat’s, flexible and trusting. Running his fingers through the purple mess, Patton rocked him slightly.

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine. I’m so sorry for scaring you, Kiddo. I just get like that sometimes. I know I shouldn’t and it’s stupid, so you can just ignore it and it’ll go away. There’s no reason to feel bad at all - you are doing wonderfully. Please don’t think about it. I love you so very much.” He promised, his voice tender and honey sweet. He nuzzled their faces together and curled them up comfortably, making Virgil feel so so small. Like a child in his mother’s arms. Taking a shuddering breath, he held on.

“That’s okay, Pat. I get like that, too. Just… different. I um – Remy says I get aggressive instead, and try to – to push people away and expect the worst of them – cause… cause of the – because after my mom… when she got – she got sick I…”

“You don’t have to tell me.” Patton mercifully whispered against his hair, impossibly loving. Virgil hadn’t even realized how irregular his breathing had become. He had almost told him about- his heart hammered in his chest with a sudden rush of terror. What the fuck had possessed him?!

After counting his breathing to get his shit together, Virgil tried again to make his point.

“Pat, I’m trying to- to tell you that I get it. I totally do. You go through all that shit and it fucks you up – sorry, I’m sorry – it messes you up and you expect to see sh-stuff around every corner and – and that’s fine! Remy says it’s normal and if we talk about it with – with them, they’ll get it. We’ve got triggers, man, and that’s okay. We triggered Logan a little bit and that happens, too. Now we know, right? I’ve got triggers and you’ve got them too, and we walked right in cause we’re all morons cause we don’t talk – cause it’s f-ing horrible. But – can we talk about it? Please?”

“Oh, of course. I’d like to know what makes you and… and Logan anxious. I didn’t want to hurt him.” Patton mumble quietly, very aware that the detective was still in the same room and they hadn’t cleared up the situation yet. His heart raced with anxiety over his reaction.

A little grunt signaled Roman wordlessly telling Logan his moment had arrived. With his elbow.

The detectives slunk around the couch and gently folded themselves on the free space on the couch, Roman shamelessly curling close to his partner and laying his arm over the armrest against Logan’s shoulders. Though he didn’t seem quite able to look Patton in the eye yet, Logan hesitantly spoke up.

“I believe a substantial amount of anxiety could have been prevented on every side had our communication been more efficient. I would like to discuss the situation in a nonjudgmental setting. Would you be willing to talk to us, Patton?”

The baker fidgeted with Virgil’s hoodie nervously, shrinking a little under all the attention. The younger man in his arm gave him comfort, though.

“Of course! I’ll do anything to make it okay. I’m really sorry I did this.” He promised softly.

Logan took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling with it. Patton feared he was trying to hold back his anger. They were all here and stressed because of him. He had thought they had figured it out together yesterday but this time, he really was the one who had messed up. Never, in a million years, had he expected Logan to fall apart like that because of something he had said. He was still shaken to the core by the detective’s sudden vulnerability.

“Patton, may I ask you to stop apologizing?” Logan asked gently, finally looking at him through slightly reddened eyes. “There is no need to blame yourself. You have done nothing wrong. No one is upset with you. We merely wish to prevent further misunderstandings.”

“Oh.” Patton muttered, suddenly realizing just how much he’d been apologizing with a rush of shame. Trevor had told him how irritating his stupid repetitions were.

“I’m sorry.”

The words were out before he had any hope of composing himself. His breath caught in his throat, heat flooding his cheeks. He barely swallowed the urge to apologize for failing even at this simple request. Not knowing how to fix the situation, he fell silent, waiting for them to scoff at him. He had been doing so much better yesterday, why was he here again? Couldn’t he learn?

“It is alright, Patton.” Logan offered mercifully.

“But… I hurt you. I didn’t mean to.” Patton added, somehow trying to convey how sorry he was. He couldn’t seem to forget the look on his friend’s gentle, handsome face.

“I never believed you would harm me intentionally, Patton. You could not have known that your confession would cause me such anxiety. Addressing a topic that needs to be discussed is your right and I would like to encourage you to continue to bring such issues to my attention without fear. It lies in the nature of psychological triggers to cause severe reactions despite appearing insignificant to others. Perhaps, to improve your comprehension of the situation, I ought to explain that I was taken back to a memory from my childhood. Due to the fact that I am autistic, I read situations wrong quite frequently and thus unknowingly alienate my peers. I am afraid my failure to understand the discomfort you have felt in our home has forcefully reminded me of the possibility of a misinterpretation of the personal relationships in my life.”

Patton stilled, trying to take Logan’s words in. There was so much that hit him right in the heart. Logan was autistic? He felt like a light had been turned on suddenly and was illuminating their interactions in an entirely different way. He wanted to ask a million questions! This actually made a lot of sense. His head was spinning with the revelation and the new understanding it brought. He could picture little Logan quite clearly now, trying to understand the things that were still difficult to him now, but must have been impossibly confusing back then. He must have been so hurt by the other children! Pain shot through his chest like a living, furious thing ripping at his organs. Little wide eyed, nerdy, vulnerable Logan appeared before his mind’s eye and it felt like a punch, like he was drowning in sorrow. Patton had put him through that again. He was such an idiot, how could he have missed it? Logan had doubted himself so badly and he knew how much that hurt. Patton should have known sooner, Logan had obviously struggled with reading a room, but he had blinded the baker with how skillfully he handled all of his messes with his deep, commanding voice and confident hands. It was just that sometimes he lost control and showed how hard everything must be for him. Though he badly wanted to apologize again, to tell him how sorry he was for causing all of that stress and anger, especially after Logan had comforted him, he wanted to reassure him even more.

“I’m – but – you know that I care about you, right? I was just being stupid. Please don’t think that I or anyone else doesn’t trust you or doesn’t love you so much! You are the best friend I’ve ever had. You protect me and help me and I really – it’s really all my fault, you did nothing wrong! You are the smartest, kindest, most great and amazing man I’ve ever met! Ever! You’re a savior – my savior. Please believe me, everyone here loves you so much!” Patton exclaimed, helplessly grabbing Logan’s hand in his attempt to make him see. There was so much he felt for his friend, his heart was so full, it would burst if he felt more for Logan. He could barely handle himself from how much he wanted. He had never, ever wanted someone to know he was loved as much as him.

The detective startled as his hand was clutched, gently returning the hold. His smile was bittersweet.

“Thank you, Patton. Your kindness is appreciated. Perhaps I ought to have told you two sooner. It is possible that I still, subconsciously, attempt to pass for a neurotypical person. A foolish attempt, certainly. I will try to be more honest with you from now on.”

“You’re not that bad, man.” Virgil mumbled bashfully, awkwardly trying to break the silence that had fallen over them as they processed the detective’s words. They clever young man was clearly unsurprised by Logan’s confession. Roman smiled at him for his contribution, silently comforting his partner.

“I am… relieved to learn our relationship is not damaged beyond repair. And I would like to remind you once again that you do not need to apologize or take the blame for my issues. They are quite beyond your control.”

“What my bumbling, brilliant best bud is trying to say-” Roman chimed in, giving his friend a break, “is that we all have our little issues. They give us character and that is charming! They are part of our exciting origin stories! Even I, fearless Detective Roman Prince, owner of the Medal of Valor, have my own demons to vanquish.” He boasted, raising his free arm dramatically to pose. Suddenly feeling the supportive, undivided attention of his friends rest heavily on him (even the pest sniffed at his nose), he grew a little more quiet. Talking about his triggers was not fun, even for one as marvelously brave and exceptionally well adjusted as Roman. However, if he wanted his lovely dorks to finally open up, someone needed to make the start.

“I… you know my sister died from an overdose, right?”

Patton gasped.

Or maybe not. Oops.

“Oh my god, I am so so sorry for springing that on you, fair Patton! But all is well, please don’t fret. I shall tell you about it all another time if you like. You truly mustn’t worry about me.”

Patton nodded bravely, clutching onto Logan’s hand hard and holding Virgil so tightly he wheezed a little bit. Roman worried for his ribs. Yet knowing this conversation must be had in order to coax Patton – and perhaps even his stormy night – to open up, he marched on.

“So, because of my sister, I don’t handle drug abuse and such issues as glamorously as I usually do. And… because of… reasons…” Roman trailed off lamely, not trusting Patton’s bright eyes enough to also tell him about his neglectful childhood. Forcefully cheerful, he continued, “Yes, so sometimes when people ignore me intentionally or not or things get too silent around me and no one pays attention to me I feel really sad and lonely, like no one will ever love me again.”

Smiling brightly, Roman was met with deafening silence.

From the other side of their group, Patton lunged at him and yanked him into his arms, squishing Logan and Virgil between them with strength born from pure protectiveness. He appeared emotional beyond words.

Roman floundered a little, unbalanced by the awkward hug. It wasn’t so bad, though. Patton had somehow managed to climb half into Logan’s lap in order to get his arm around Roman, conveniently allowing the detective to hide his still flushed face in the baker’s neck and cushioning him between Patton and his rat. Poor Virgil had simply been dragged along – which he would have never allowed anyone else to do. To prevent him from tumbling off the couch, Logan had wrapped a quick, steadying arm around him, drawing his skinny body close. Virgil pawed and shifted against them a little, growling and grumbling, before sagging between them with a defeated sigh. The fuck was he supposed to do?! Tell Patton to release the suddenly iron tight grip on his hoodie? He didn’t think so.

“Uh, are you alright, dearest Patton?” Roman inquired tentatively. The baker nodded, obsessively nuzzling the young detective’s face with his own like a bespectacled cat. It was hard not to feel soft and faint when he was loved so obviously. Carefully, he brought his arms up to wrap around Patton – and Logan as a consequence, and Virgil on the other side, safely pulling him against his large body, lending stability to their embrace. The barista folded his slender limbs just right to fit between Logan and Patton pleasantly, just where they needed him for their comfort.

“It’s all good, lovely Patton.” Roman rumbled softly, filling the space between them with his deep, smooth voice. “We all fight our dark little demons that cling to our hearts, trying to tell us how small und unwanted we are. They are quite wrong, though, and sometimes we need someone to show us that.”

Remembering the path that brought him to confidently bump shoulders with Logan or push his head against his side for cuddles when they were working too quietly made his insides swell with emotion. It was a path both Patton and Virgil were walking right now; one they could join Logan and him on.

“Life is like a dance, my dear.” Roman murmured into curly brown locks. “Even when you found the right partner, learning the rhythm and the steps has to be done together, whether it’s a passionate tango where you twirl and dip your partner or a comfortable waltz where you quietly hold each other close. Even Logan and I had to find the right way to twist and twirl around each other. And we stepped onto each other’s feet plenty.”

Logan huffed softly, remembering the tense beginning of their partnership all too well and not missing it in the least.

“We were blessed with quite differing tempers, Logan and I.” Roman elaborated lightly. “I wanted his attention badly and tried to mold myself to what I believed to be his wishes. Every failed attempt to gain his approval felt like a person failure and discouraged me greatly. At the same time, Logan wanted my glittering friendship but felt irritated since he lacked the competence to appreciate my performance!”

Logan groaned, tentatively adjusting his hold on Virgil, staying very still otherwise, so as not to make Patton uncomfortable with their close proximity.

“Our cooperation suffered from a server lack of communication, as it turned out.” He added to Roman’s explanation.

“True! I mistakenly believed my stiff partner to wish for a boringly rugged, brash colleague to brood with – like Bruce Willis and such heroic, bland heterosexuals. There really isn’t a lot of material to mold my performance after, let me tell you! A travesty! But alas, we solved that pesky issue and I got to be the blessing you know and love!” Roman boasted, jostling a grumpy Virgil with his constant need to move around to embellish his story.

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, the young detective shifted so he could gently capture Patton’s chin to make him look at him. He wanted him to understand how much he understood his continued insecurity. The baker shyly returned his gaze.

“Having found our style doesn’t mean everything was suddenly easy, though. Friendship takes time, and practice.” He explained kindly. Releasing him again, he made sure to smile lovingly at the unbalanced little thing.

“Logan tried to show – in his own way – that he accepted me. But we were still two different people with different needs. I was cared for. For a long time, however, I suffered days where I could not see it. Logan needs a professional routine and sometimes silence to be able to work and I… I don’t do well with silence. When we worked a case, I sometimes got lost in my head, thinking Logan ignored me or that I had done something wrong, and he was pushing me away on purpose. As a response, I tried to gain his attention and approval any way I could think of – alienating and irritating him in the process.”

“Oh RoRo, I’m so sorry!” Patton mumbled tearfully.

“Oh no, Patton, love, it’s all good – all’s well that ends well, right? Logan might have been unsure of what to do with a colorful delight such as myself, but having learned how much I wanted our friendship, he was determined to be there for me.”

Logan, having tensed during the story about their frictions, relaxed very slightly.

“Being the literal nerd that he is, he decided to do what worked last time and took me out for a drink. Cocoa, this time, since alcohol is vile and disgusting, seriously! And he asked me what I needed from him, which is charming, but also slightly lacking in presentation – a renewed declaration of platonic love and perhaps a bouquet would not have gone amiss- ow!”

Feeling Logan’s annoyance and knowing he was still too mortified to draw attention to himself, Virgil took pity on him and poked Roman on his older friend’s behalf. All of them cringed at Roman’s high-pitched wail.

“Alright, alright!” The dramatic detective whined, trying to get back to the story. “So, my dearest, most beloved partner made an effort to adjust to my needs and we talked – dreadfully boring, I know. No grand declarations of friendship for me! However, we found ways to make me feel more welcome and cared about, which took a bit of experimenting, as you can imagine! Oh! I was sure Logan made a book about it with graphs and such but I never asked!”

The stubborn silence of the older detective spoke volumes. Roman grinned brightly.

“See, lovely Patton, the result of our efforts! Before learning to understand each other I would have missed the romance of a journal dedicated to my wellbeing – which I wanna see, pronto! And I would not have gotten quiet cuddles during his silent phases to be reminded of his undying devotion to me, or have his bickering, which is his attempt to reach out and shower me with the attention I so deserve!” Roman cheerfully explained, his eyes shining. He loved remembering all the little ways Logan tried to make him feel loved.

“A dance between two people can look all sorts of ways, you know?” He elaborated. “Ours includes little ways of supporting each other which might not even look that nice to the uninvited spectator. How is one to know that our bickering and roughhousing is a sigh of our epic bromance, grown through trial and tenacity?”

Quietly, Logan spoke up finally.

“I am afraid Roman is giving me too much credit. He actually handled our relationship with much more skill and subtlety than I would have ever been capable of. I had long feared making him uncomfortable with my unapproachable ways and complaints and had few, ineffective ideas about how to rectify the situation.”

Curiously, Patton eased his death grip on Roman, wanting to give Logan all of his attention. Their desperate knot of limbs eased into a comfortable huddle, thanks to Roman and Patton adjusting their hold on their partner and kiddo.

“You must certainly have noticed that I tend to come across as rather cold and intimidating, which I am aware of - mostly. Unfortunately, I did not yet know how to make myself more approachable. Additionally, I had offended more than one colleague with my inappropriate reactions and feared a repeat my mistakes with Roman. As a result, I attempted to limit my verbal interactions to the bare essentials, or – frequently failing to uphold this intention – talked too much and too clinically out of nervousness. Roman invested a considerable amount of care and effort into the improvement of our communication, which I am grateful for. He supported me by patiently explaining my failures and helping me improve, and even by taking control of situations that have threatened to emotionally overwhelm me.”

“Awww!!!” Roman gushed, grinning so brightly his eyes shone and his whole face lit up attractively. He was stupidly pretty and Virgil was not okay.

“There is no need for applause, my beloved fans!” The young detective exclaimed, raising his manicured hands to calm imaginary masses. “That bouquet I never got will do just fine! And that journal about your attempts to friend-court me – I demand you hand that over!”

“There is no such thing as a ‘friend-courting’ journal.” Logan growled, shuffling about feeling uncomfortably bashful in their cuddle pile with Roman half draped over his back. He didn’t dislodge his partner’s chin when it came to rest on his shoulder, though.

Patton watched their grumpy, yet somehow soft interaction though a now clear gaze. Logan looked annoyed and flustered and Roman was being a demanding diva, yet they were intertwined in friendly cuddles. The baker was still feeling a little tense whenever their deep, rumbling voices dropped low (or high, in Roman’s case), but there was no denying the tenderness filling their interactions. Ducking his head close to Virgil, he was reminded of how thoroughly he had messed everything up today. Their love had always been so obvious to him and now he could barely look at Logan without shame.

Shifting uncomfortably under Patton’s arm, Virgil started fidgeting with a loose thread on the soft cardigan he was pressed against.

“When I got here, I thought Logan and Roman would lock me in.” He muttered softly even as his face heated and his heart started hammering. Nausea was already making its way into his throat, yet he knew Patton needed to know he wasn’t alone in this.

The pâtissier tensed, his breath catching with surprise. Startled, he looked up at the pained faces of the detectives looking down at the bowed, purple head.

“They didn’t, f’course. I was just being stupid paranoid. Logan gave me a key and a room I could lock and Roman was – he was a good guy. They both were. They never asked for anything or pushed me or… I was making a lot of stuff up and kept making everyone nervous cause of it. Logan had to arrest me, you see, cause of the Scorpions. I wanted to leave and he didn’t know that yet, cause I’d botched it, and I’d hurt Roman and… I should’ve been in jail and I didn’t understand why I wasn’t. They even risked their lives to save me which I just didn’t get. So, you know – I made up reasons for their kindness for a long time and started looking for clues to support my ideas and I kept reading things Roman did wrong, and he knew. I was a screw up and kinda anxious and aggressive and Logan kept calming me and Roman kept miserably trying to not scare the screw up, which is nice, man. Thank you.” He muttered softly, daring to glance up at Roman for just a moment.

“But it’s okay, man. I’m starting to understand them better. There’s stuff I can do here – stuff I’m good at. I’m getting more comfortable with myself and that makes me less anxious about them and that makes them more calm – especially Roman. Logan is just – he’s really good at handling all that. He’s calm and - steady. And now I feel like… like things are getting better? But even that doesn’t mean they are perfect. I get… I still get issues and nightmares and stuff and I get angry, kinda a lot. Somehow, Roman knows how to deal with me when I’m like that. I don’t – I have no idea how he does it.” Virgil mumbled, trailing off softly.

The group was very quiet, sensing he had to gather his courage.

Clearing his throat and making extra sure not to look up from the protection of his bangs, Virgil took a deep breath.

“I thought I’d gotten it under control, with you. Helping you. But I messed it up big time, didn’t I? I scared you and I wanna explain it to you, you don’t have to forgive me.” He cut Patton off before he managed to speak, gently capturing his soft hand and squeezing it, trying to swallow the pounding, frantic emotion brewing in him.

“It’s just - I’m just mad at the world for not leaving you the fuck alone. Things keep happening all the time to you, and Remy and Logan try to help calm me but I - sometimes I can’t deal with it any other way! I just hate that you get hurt. I just- I just want you to be happy. That’s why I’m mad. Not at you, but… for you, I guess.”

Patton sighed deeply, feeling tears gather. His kiddo. He was so small and frustrated and helpless and Patton could see what he meant. He understood, suddenly.

“Oh. I hadn’t- I hadn’t thought of that. I just thought you’d be mad at me because – because I-”

“No one’s ever really mad at you, man. You’re a literal fucking angel.” Virgil interrupted tiredly.

“Language!”

“Sorry, man.” Virgil muttered demurely. But fuck him, he was tired. Emotions. He wanted back into Logan’s bed and snuggle up with him. He had the feeling if he fell asleep with his older protector, Logan would end up being the big spoon and that sounded quite safe.

“I get it, though. I’m doing this a lot to you, aren’t I? I get mad all the time cause I’m an aggressive screw up and you have to take the fall. I didn’t notice I was making you nervous, but I’ll figure it out, okay? We can make you feel safe if you help us understand what’s got you spooked.”

“Okay.” Patton agreed finally. “But you have to stop saying you’re a screw up! You’re not! You’re the smartest kiddo I know and I am so proud of you! You mustn’t feel bad because I get a little anxious sometimes! I just love you a lot and want things to be well!”

“Sure, Pat.” Virgil promised, deflating after his emotion-dumping was finally done. He could see the worry on Patton’s face, see his mind working with his attempt to figure out what exactly Virgil had been afraid the detectives would do to him, but that horrifying conversation could wait till another day. Preferably in ten or twenty years. Or never.

Meanwhile, Patton was looking up at all of them. At Roman comfortably draping himself over Logan’s back, letting him take his weight while he wrapped his arms around his older colleague, lacing his fingers over the others stomach. At Logan still trying to avert his gaze despite keeping a gentle arm wrapped loosely around Patton’s back, and at Virgil who was involving himself in a staring match with Cat who had rolled away, clearly contemplating whether he wanted to drag the moody raccoon into their mess.

Cat hissed at him.

Bristling, Virgil hissed back.

“I- um.”

Three pairs of eyes turned to Patton.

“I wanted to thank you, for opening up and telling me all that. I know it must have been hard.” He murmured softly.

There was so much he was still thinking about. Their exchange was like nothing he’d ever experienced. The way they all had learned to look out for each other because they had hurt their friends unintentionally gave him hope. These men were so kind and tender with their loved ones. They truly thought about their friend’s problems and tried to change in any way they could to be what the others needed. He had wondered how men such as Logan and Roman, who were so different, had managed to become so in tune with each other. It seemed like they had worked hard to get where they were and now, they were offering the same effort to Virgil – and to him. He was awed by their willingness to forgive his failures and the pain he had caused. He’d grown used to bearing the pain alone and being the one to keep trying to adjust, to do better and offend less and please a partner who wouldn’t be pleased with himself. He’d never been looked after this way.

With renewed confidence, he smiled at them, genuine and grateful.

Finally, Logan smiled back.

Though his posture was still not as confident as usual, the expression transformed his face and made him look soft and approachable. Like the kind of man that would soothe a defensive creature like Virgil with calm words or heal Patton with his gentle hands on him.

“There is no need to thank us, Patton. Considering the amount of times we have misunderstood each other, a conversation is long overdue and will benefit all of us.”

Patton’s little heart fluttered at the smooth tone of that deep voice. It was like Logan was intentionally speaking more quietly in order to soothe him. The pitch made his dark voice all kinds of rumbly. Patton felt a little nervous flutter upon being spoken to that way. Trying not to let his silly reaction show, he plastered a big smile onto his face.

“Okay. Alright. So it looks like it’s confession time! Buckle up, kids!”

Roman grinned at him encouragingly.

“Okay.” Patton said again, trying to sort out his thoughts and make the words come. Whenever he opened his mouth to speak it was as if something lodged itself into his throat, snatching his breath away. How did you tell your friends who had washed the blood off your body and accepted you into their home that he had been uncomfortable in their care? It was impossible.

Virgil leaned away from him briefly to snatch up Cat, somehow avoiding the sharp claws that tried to free her from emotional support duty. Snorting, Virgil pressed her back against his stomach and settled her into his lap, aggressively loving her.

“You’re a bristly beast, you know that? You keep pulling threads and gnawing on the furniture and you have an attitude.” Cat snapped her jaws at him. “That’s okay.” Virgil promised. “I dig it.”

Wrapping his arms around her more comfortably, Virgil allowed her to leave if she wanted to. She bit his thumb with sharp little teeth before curling her fluffy, striped tail around his elbow and settling in.

Patton laughed softly, recognizing the attempt to make him more comfortable with his confession. He loved Virgil so much.

“Okay.” He whispered one last time. “So, I – I sometimes get a bit antsy, because Trevor and I – we used to fight a lot. I can be a little difficult, after all. And I guess I got a little used to looking for reasons to worry, since there was always another thing to argue about. And you all didn’t do anything wrong! You are all wonderful and I know you wouldn’t do anything mean! But… there are some things I felt- that made me a bit… insecure, I guess.”

“What things are those, sweet Patton?” Roman inquired gently, keeping his voice soft.

“Oh, just little things. Nothing to worry about! I’m just overly nervous, is all! I guess I’m just too sensitive.” Patton confessed, trying one last time to avoid making his friends uncomfortable. Neither of them took the bait, though.

“Pat, it’s okay.” Virgil nudged him with his shoulder before grabbing Nugget’s middle as it tried to climb over them to get to its human and settled it into his friend’s arms. It curled its head and rolled into a purring ball.

“Yes, right. Sorry.” Patton amended. “So, I just worry sometimes, when I get nervous from time to time and start expecting things, when someone raises their voice it makes me a bit frightened. And… you guys just bicker with each other sometimes - when Roman starts complaining I get worried you guys might fight and when Logan has something to complain about because we make a mess, I worry that things might get… bad. And… and sometimes when Virgil gets annoyed at something – which I think is wonderful! I love that you’re passionate – but I – I just hear nothing but the tone, sometimes, and not what is being said. It’s stupid. I’m sorry.”

The group grew very quiet after Patton’s confession. The pâtissier was stoically looking at the kitten, trying to hide the gathering tears, while the men in his life tried to come to terms with his confession.

Finally, Roman reached around Logan and wrapped a warm, large hand around Patton’s where they were cradling the kitten. “It’s not stupid, sweet Patton. Your feelings are natural and you deserve to have them taken into consideration.”

“Yeah, man. We’re really sorry.”

“I too, would like to extend my apologies for causing you discomfort.” Logan added quietly. “I should have realized how our behaviour would affect you, considering your experiences.”

Patton quickly rubbed at his tears and tried to find his smile. He was usually good at pulling himself together and chase away everyone’s worry with a joke, but his tears just kept coming. It was the warmth of Virgil at his side, so slender and still supportive like a solid, graceful steel construction wrapped around him. Logan held him in a tentative hug and Roman towered over him, gently caressing his fingers buried in fur. Patton was warm and surrounded by loving people with tender hands on him and a raccoon that was drooling on his sleeve where it had rested its head. It was so much better than he’d ever dared dream of. He’d forgotten how much he had hoped for this. For a home. The realization that he was right in the middle of this group, cradled and protected and wanted washed over him. Even though he was being stupid.

“Thank you. So much.” He muttered, his voice thick with tears. “Please don’t change. I’ll be fine. I’m so happy to be here.”

The three men exchanged a look over his light brown curls, silently promising each other to come back to this topic and to make sure Patton always knew he was safe no matter how much their bickering got out of hand. For now, their beloved baker appeared tired enough to fall asleep in their arms.

“We are pleased to know you are enjoying our company. The feeling is mutual.” Logan noted carefully. “However, if it would be acceptable to you, we would like to continue working on making you feel safe with us like we have done for each other before and like you have been with us since the beginning of our friendship. It will not cause us any trouble. Additionally, I would like inform you of an offer Dr. Emile Harris asked me to relay to you.”

Virgil perked up slightly, hopefully raising his head to listen.

“Remy mentioned that he would like to visit us soon in order to spend time with me and personally continue his sessions with Virgil. Additionally, he would like to bring his husband with him who he explained appears to be quite fond of you. Roman has graciously offered to take the children to the park to entertain them… if you are amenable to being in the company of Remy’s husband, of course.”

Wiping his eyes dry with his long, soft sleeve, Patton thought the offer through. Remembering Emile with his sweet smile and warm eyes and his gentle playfulness with his children made him feel safe already. Talking to him had cleared so much up. Perhaps he could help him figure things out before they got out of hand next time, so he wouldn’t hurt anyone again. He’d really been silly. Sitting here, on this very couch he’d dreamed about, with his very own adorable baby kitten in his hands, he could hardly understand how he could have forgotten how much he loved it here. He never wanted to forget again. And he wanted to see Emile. It was difficult not to tell Logan it was all fine and to try not to cause more effort for everyone, but he could feel so clearly how much his friends wanted him to get better. Like Patton wanted with Virgil. He wanted his kiddo to heal and be happy and Roman to never feel unloved again and he wanted Logan to know he was so so cared about and just perfect the way he was. He wished he could see how amazing he truly was. Patton had so many feelings about his man. He longed to… do so much. Make him feel so much. They were all here to take care of each other, and if he wanted to look after them, perhaps he should let them help him as well.

“That would be lovely. Thank you.”

Roman grinned, immediately cheered up by the idea of going to a playground, dressing up and playing knights and princess and fighting dragons. Virgil, too, seemed to nestle against Patton more calmly. Reassured that his family was feeling secure, Logan finally relaxed properly in their cuddle pile. His breath left him in a deep sigh as Patton carefully leaned against him, rubbing his cheek against his wool sweater. He closed his eyes and buried his face in the silky curls.

***************************************************

End of chapter notes: So we ended in a cuddle pile again because who needs variety.

Once again, if you guys feel like supporting me, here’s the old Ko-fi page link :)

The app Virgil is programming wasn’t supposed to be in the story, actually. It just jumped at me that it would be a cool project from them to share because Virgil needs to build things again and Logan loves his plants and data. And ACTUALLY my boyfriend is making that very same app because our f*cking lemon tree keeps dying. I’ve bought him another one last year and it is constantly on the brink of death. The Failure is real. We manage to make it grow leaves and they keep falling off again. Every.fricking.time. The fucker. (We’re both having issues at this point). The app will be available sometime this year with his sensors and all. If you have a plant that keeps dying on you and you are as stupidly stubborn as Logan, I’ll post a link and you can nerdily try to save it. I’ll keep you updated because my boyfriend is making an app all on his own and I am just so darn proud of him!!! (And Virgil can program it with Logan which will be adorable and get Virge out there again).

ART:

@olcia46 made another edit I’d die for. I just think they are so pretty! The colours, the outline of the boys, all of it!

and I’m not even certain if I shared this LOVELY picture of @galaxy-sketch of Virgil and Nicodemus sitting on a counter yet but it’s lovely enough to look at twice!

Next Chapter

#Detective AU #Keep him safe #Sanders Sides #Patton Sanders #Logan Sanders #Roman Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Prinxiety #Logicality #my writing #Eva writes

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oliveiraveiro · 4 years ago

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find an escape

part 2 of 3 of The Weekend

Open Heart, Rafael x F!MC

series summary: Casey and Rafael try to face their respective feelings and be honest about them to each other. With Sora in the picture, what can happen in short three days? What will happen after?

chapter summary: Casey and Rafael are definitely not dating.

tags/warning: pining, eventual happy ending, fluff, rafael x sora, emotional cheating

word count: 2043 / ao3 link / part 1 / part 3

Saturday night.

“She’s right, you know. Our situation isn’t exactly the prettiest.” Casey glances at Rafael.

They were now seated at a bench outside the hospital, Casey toughing out the cold air because the alternative is taking Rafael’s jacket.

Having his scent that intimately close to her when his girlfriend is already mad at them, she knew that was the last thing they needed. But even at a distance she smells his cologne and aftershave, and it was so familiar that too many memories flood her mind all at once.

“We’re friends. What’s not pretty about that?” Rafael interrupts her thoughts about needing to be strong to not give in and end up embracing him.

“Exes shouldn’t be friends, Rafael.” Casey sighs. “At the end of relationships people should be resenting each other. If not…” she trails off, looking away, embarrassed.

“If not…?” Rafael urges after a moment, only looking at her more intently.

“If not, then they haven’t moved on. Or…doesn’t want to.” She continues, only looking ahead, letting out another breath.

A beat passes, both of them silent. “You- you really think that?” Rafael asks after another moment and he bites on his bottom lip.

“I do, Raf. Because…I haven’t moved on from you. And I don’t want to because I want to keep you in my life.” She finally meets his gaze, smiling a little, but evidently serious. “What’s your excuse?”

“Like I said before, Casey, I still care about you--”

“I know, Raf. But you can’t, not anymore. Even more now that your girlfriend is obviously unhappy about it.” She interrupts.

“Are you saying we shouldn’t be friends anymore?” he asks, frowning and already looking sad.

“I’m just saying… maybe that’s for the best. This whole ordeal tonight, Sora kissing you like that in front of everyone… she means no harm. She did it only because she doesn’t want to make you choose between her and a friend, and with jealousy and alcohol mixed together… Well, it’s probably the only way that made sense to make sure I remember you’re hers.”

“You don’t have to defend her, Casey. It was inappropriate, and I… I’m sorry that she was disrespectful. I- we weren’t… doing anything wrong.”

“Weren’t we?” she looks over at him again. “Because my heart still skips a beat whenever you smile at me. Maybe that’s too obvious than I thought.”

Indeed, there are a plenty of times Rafael catches Casey blushing at something he says. But does that mean anything? Because he knows his eyes light up whenever he sees her beautiful smile or she says something funny, and he smiles too wide his cheeks hurt whenever she talks so passionately about something. Or…basically about anything, really. Do those mean anything?

Slowly, it dawns on him, and he starts to feel a sense of impending danger in his stomach. He used to think confronting Casey is the thing he is scared of the most, but confronting his feelings about Casey? Running into a burning building is easier than this.

“Listen… Sora’s been waiting for you for a while now. And I should get back inside soon.” Casey finally gets up, wrapping her arms around herself. “I still care about you too, Raf, but that includes me not being in the way of your relationship. We don’t-” her voice breaks. “We don’t have to avoid each other, but I don’t think we should be too comfortable spending time together either. It’s… for the best.”

I’d say you’re convincing me and not yourself, but I know better. Rafael takes a long shaky breath, standing up after her. “You’re saying…”

“I’m letting you go.” There is no mistaking Casey’s shining eyes. She does her best to blink back the tears, to no avail.

Rafael quickly moves to pull her into a tight hug, and Casey only tears up more at his warm embrace. She hugs him back as tightly, making the moment last. His scent, the feel of his body against her, the way he absentmindedly rubs her shoulder with his thumb: it all intoxicated her. If only she can stay in his arms like this forever.

“It’s my turn to talk. I’m not letting you, Casey. You’re right about a lot of things, and I have just as plenty to apologize and make up for, but this is not where we’ll end. Not when we broke up a few months ago, and not tonight.” He finally says after a long minute.

She starts to pull away, shaking her head. “Please don’t make this harder--”

“Trust me, Casey.” Rafael meets her eyes with pure determination that she does not dare insist otherwise. They can talk again, someday. Soon, hopefully. Tonight is already a real breakthrough, she doesn’t need to push it more.

“Okay, Raf. I trust you.” Casey need not to lie, and she smiles as Rafael smiles at her, her heart doing the familiar skipping.

He leans in close, pressing a soft, tender kiss to her forehead. Casey can only smile more and close her eyes, letting herself forget everything for a moment and focus on Rafael’s soft lips and his somehow warm hands holding her face. She takes more than a moment in his arms again, but it still feels too short as she starts to pull away.

She puts up a brave face. “Go get your girl.”

He takes her hand, affectionately kissing her knuckles. I will, Rafael thinks only to himself.

Sunday morning.

Casey is usually high-spirited during Sundays. At this day of the week she already had fun, and she will only spend the day to get more rest and relaxation. It is the perfect day to get her mind back to work so she is ready to face new cases and patients.

This particular Sunday, however, all her thoughts as she drank her coffee are about Rafael. This somehow feels worse than their breakup, because there is no staying friends anymore. No more spending time with him, no more stealing glances at his beautiful face, no more giggling to herself at something he says that is not even that funny.

Halfway through her drink Casey hears the doorbell. She peeks at the living room, but her roommates are not there anymore. She could swear she already saw Jackie and Aurora reading on the couch. She gets up from the dining chair, heading to the door.

She expected to see Bryce behind it. It might also be Phoebe, or Danny, or maybe even Farley. But it was someone she did not expect at all: the subject of her woes, none other than Rafael.

“Raf? What are you doing here?” Casey asks, noting the bouquet of flowers he was holding.

“Getting my girl.” Rafael gives her a smile. “Uh- trying, at least. I know we still have plenty to talk about.”

Casey can only let out a soft laugh with all the thoughts she was just having. She knows it can only mean that he and Sora broke up, and while he is very welcome right now she also knows nothing about this will be easy. But she’ll be damned if she lets him go one more time.

“Come in, Raf.”

Sunday evening.

Dinner.

They both agreed that they were going to take things slow. So this is not a date, just a simple dinner, Casey reminds herself despite their holding hands.

She is looking down at her hand intertwined with Rafael’s, while he is not letting his eyes leave her face. At the moment he is just staring at her forehead, but he does not want to stop looking at her beauty, as if she will disappear if he does.

“It’s a little funny, isn’t it? You took me here on our first date but we’re also here on our first not-date.” Casey finally meets Rafael’s eyes again, and the excitement in them as their gazes meet is now hard to miss now that she is not just stealing a glance. She almost giggles at how attentive he is being, cheeks flushing yet again at his intense stare.

“Hold on… wasn’t our first date in a helicopter?” Rafael asks after a few seconds of being lost in Casey’s eyes.

“Well…no. Not the official one. You were on the job, and I was too, technically.” Casey reasons.

“Not the official--” He trails off and gapes in dramatic disbelief. “You think I bring just any doctor with me for a helicopter ride around town?”

Casey laughs softly. “That’s- okay, that’s a good point. I really appreciated knowing about your uncle and your love for the community in that quote-unquote date. But…I’ve always thought that our first dinner is much more special. You really went out of your way to cheer me up.”

“From the moment we met I’ve had this voice in my head telling me I had to do what I could to make you happy. I’m glad I listened and continued to.” Rafael smiles. “Until- well, you know.” He sighs softly, frowning a little.

“Hey,” she gives his hand a squeeze. “Sora was your first love; I understand that now. And it’s normal for everyone to have baggage from their exes, you know? What is weird, actually, is if you didn’t.” She grins, trying to keep it light, but his face still expressed guilt.

“It’s no excuse. Look at us now, I’ve only hurt you both.” He frowns deeper, but also takes her other hand in his. “I promise you, Casey, I’ll do everything to make it up to you. I know we still have to figure a lot of things out, but--” he swallows, taking a few moments to himself, gathering courage. “I love you, Casey. I know and I’m sorry it’s a little too late to realize that, but I do. I assure you I’ll do better by you.”

Casey can feel her chest tightening. This got very intense very quickly, and her feelings are getting the best of her. Just how often did she fantasize this exact moment? She worried for a second that maybe this is one of the many scenarios her brain came up with, but the warmth of Rafael’s hands around hers is all too real. His scent, his cologne, his shampoo. He’s here.

She cannot speak a word, nor think a thought; her mind overwhelmed because the man she thought she would never get to hold like this again is right in front of her, telling her that he loves her too. Not wasting any more time, she grabs his face and kisses him.

When Rafael broke up with Casey, she was not able to give him a final kiss. She barely remembers the last time they shared a passionate kiss, but she is absolutely certain right now that this kiss puts all their other kisses to shame. Yes, this second first kiss is even better and more exciting than the one they shared in a free fall from a thousand feet up in the air.

Their feelings poured into the kiss are obviously pained but there is also excitement and it is completely full of love. In short, perfectly intense. It feels…right, and Rafael is sure he will never again doubt staying by Casey’s side.

He pulls away, also holding her face with a hand, grinning as he caressed her cheek with his thumb. He has never felt this way about anyone in his life ever, even with Sora then and now. His mind keeps on repeating how absolutely sure he is about Casey.

Not knowing what his too-happy smile meant, Casey makes a small face. “I’m sorry, I know we said this wasn’t a date--”

Their mouths meet again in a kiss, this time Rafael initiates, and it is her turn to grin as they pulled away. “Okay, I’m still not sure if that means this was totally a date, but for the record, I love you, too.”

He smiles despite his heart skipping a beat. God, how crazy is he about her? It was almost embarrassing, but she loves him back. Despite everything, she loves him, and he loves her. That is the only thing that matters.

“I love you, Casey.” he repeats.

“And I love you, Rafael. So much.”

#sorry this took forever #the epilogue probably will too sdksd #choices open heart #open heart #open heart fanfiction #rafael aveiro #rafael aveiro x mc #rafael x mc #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices

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mypassionfortrash · 5 years ago

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Nothing Serious (Part Ten)

SUMMARY: Roger’s divorce comes through, but he can’t seem to figure out why he isn’t more happy about it. Until he realises exactly what his life’s been missing.

Roger Taylor x Reader; Modern AU; Strictly 18+

💫 CATCH UP HERE! 💫

TAGS: @jennyggggrrr; @sarahgurl09; @sunshine112; @biscuit-barrel; @sitonmyhot-seatoflove; @jhoemazzellhoe; @justgivemethekeys; @qweenly; @picturepowderinabottle

NOTES: One more part to go! Thank for reading, and if you’ve enjoyed this fic, please share!

Roger was a great mood.

The sun swam in the brilliant blue mid-morning sky. He had just left the love of his life in bed, still in a post-orgasmic mess. And today was the day he had been waiting for.

Today, Queen would head into their recording studio to record their twelfth album.

Nothing could get to him or throw him off kilter as he skipped down the stairs, taking three at a time like he was a man in his twenties. And then he got to the lobby.

Something caught his eye as he sauntered past the mailboxes. A flash of crimson.

Someone had mail. And he had a funny idea of who it was. Every other apartment in the building was leased out to holidaymakers and businessmen whenever they were in town. Every apartment except Roger’s. He owned his and when he visited Montreux, he always had his mail rerouted. With a pang of dread, he gave the mailboxes a double take. That little red flag stood loud and proud next to his apartment number.

Roger groaned and shuffled over, slipping his key into the lock. There was one letter; he grabbed it and instantly recognised the emblem on the envelope. His solicitor.

His heart raced as he slipped his fingers underneath the seal. He walked and read, eyes batting over the page at a rate of naughts. His whole body tensed with every word until he reached the one, all-important paragraph. The outcome.

‘Ms. Beyrand has agreed to settle the divorce at no further inconvenience to Mr Taylor and requires no alimony in return. Therefore, my client, Mr R. M. Taylor, and his former spouse, Ms Beyrand, should be considered legally divorced.’

‘Legally divorced,’ Roger mumbled with an awe-struck smile on his lips. He was – finally – legally divorced.

He felt a strange mix of optimism and relief as he walked along the promenade towards the casino-slash-recording studio. But those emotions collided with the realisation that he had wasted a whole decade of his life married to the wrong person.

Truth be told, it played all day.

“You’re looking awfully spaced out, Rog. You alright?” Brian fussed.

Roger didn’t take it in the kind and caring way Brian meant it. Instead, he just took offence. He squared off his shoulders and furrowed his brows. “Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked.

“You just seem distracted. It’s not that girlfriend of yours is it?”

“Mate, just focus on your fucking solos alright? Maybe cut them down a bit,” Roger snarked.

“Oh, he’s just being menstrual, Brian!” Freddie exclaimed over the intercom; he was sitting behind the controls with their producer, Dave.

Dave grimaced at Freddie’s comment. He was a good friend of Roger’s, and knew how to talk him down in this kind of environment. “Why don’t we do one more take, Roger, and then you can head off for the day?” Or so Dave thought.

That only incensed Roger more, earning a barrage of drumsticks being lobbed at the plexiglass that divided the two rooms in the poky upstairs studio. “Fuck off,” Roger spat. “Get that on tape? Did you?”

Everyone in the studio, right down to the engineer’s assistant, rolled their eyes. It wasn’t uncommon for Roger to become hysterical in the studio, but this was completely out of the blue. There were no precursory arguments, or ‘constructive criticism’ to pre-warn everyone of Roger’s impending outburst. It just came.

“Roger?” Freddie implored.

“Oh fucking hell, what is it now, Fred?”

“I just want this album to be ok,” Freddie said solemnly.

Roger’s expression softened, picking up the sad nuance in Freddie’s tone. “And it will be. We’ve got good songs.”

“But I need us to be a family, Rog.”

“We are a family Fred.”

“This isn’t going to last forever and I just want us to have a good fucking time, do you understand? We won’t be doing this forever,” Freddie continued, seemingly trying to psyche himself up to deal with the next few weeks.

Freddie wasn’t exactly the leader in Queen; he wouldn’t accept that mantle. But when Freddie threw down the gauntlet like this, it was right and normal for everyone else in the band to fall in line.

Roger wandered around the live room, gathering up his projectile drumsticks, then settled back behind his kit. “Right. Understood, Fred. Let’s go for another take.”

“Go for it,” Dave said.

Try as he might, Roger just couldn’t shake the feelings that flooded his brain that morning. Every time he tried to make progress in the studio, or even in terms of shifting his thoughts away from the divorce, something seeped its way back into the forefront of his mind like a rapidly advancing disease. And so, unlike anything Roger had ever done before, he missed a beat. And then another. And soon enough, the entire song ran away from him in spectacular fashion, causing the volcano of emotions inside him to bubble over. Not in his usual fiery brand of blonde-haired, blue-eyed rage, but in a watery tirade of tears and expletives. Tears rolled thick and fast down Roger’s rosy cheeks. He was proud; he darted towards the bathroom and holed himself up in the grotty cubicle.

He threw his head down between his knees, letting the tears splatter on to the floor, trying to make sense of it all. Trying to make sense of why, after getting rid of the worst mistake of his life, he felt like his life was so uncertain and unfulfilled. Try as he might, the answer didn’t pop right out at him. And he just grew more and more annoyed with himself because of it.

Roger lost track of how much time he spent inside the filthy, shabby little cubicle with blood-red walls, until there was a gentle knock at the door.

“Go away!” he sulked.

“Roger,” Brian began, “I’m sorry I upset you. I don’t know what’s going on with you right now, but we’re here for you, ok?”

Roger groaned. The family talk was the last thing he needed right now. So he stayed quiet, hoping that his bandmates would soon lose interest and work on their album without him. But no. Another voice muffled through the layer of wood separating Roger from the rest of the studio. This time it was Deacy.

“Yeah, you might want to come out. We can’t really make an album if we don’t have a drummer.”

“I’m prepared to fill in though!” Freddie piped up.

In unison, for once in their careers, Brian and Deacy who were always at loggerheads with each other exclaimed a booming, “NO!”

This gleaned a hollow laugh from Roger as he realised how lucky he was to have friends and bandmates like them. He leaned forward and unbolted the door, opening it, to reveal his three bandmates sitting on the floor in the hallway outside the door. “I just need a minute,” Roger said, wiping his eyes.

“You can talk to us, you know,” Brian urged. “We’ll understand.”

“Fuck, we’ve been through everything together,” Freddie laughed. “What is it, dear?”

Roger sighed and wondered where to begin. How to describe what he was feeling. Everything he was feeling. “The divorce came through today.”

“You should be celebrating then!” Freddie said, bursting with impatience at the prospect of a party. The man could smell hilarity a mile out.

“That’s the thing,” Roger began, “I’m happy about it. But at the same time…” he trailed off with a shrug.

“You did spend ten years with Dom, though. That’s a long time,” Deacy said.

“Yeah, but I’m not even unhappy about that. It’s just that I’ve got nothing to show for it.”

Brian narrowed his eyes, clicking on to what Roger meant, before even Roger understood. “Kids? Rog, that’s not the be and end all.”

“But Dom didn’t want kids, and I did,” he mused in a small voice. “And now, my girlfriend’s… twenty-four. I don’t even know if that’s what she wants. What if when she’s ready, I’ll be an old man?” Roger’s eyes grew glassy again at the prospect. “What if I never have that?” he repeated, looking around at his bandmates.

“Have you told her this?” Freddie asked.

Deacy waved his hands to halt the conversation right there for him to interject. “You’ve known this girl how long now? And you’re just going to go back to the flat and be like, ‘hey do you want to have my babies, push me around in a wheelchair and eventually scatter my ashes?’ Are you being serious here?”

“Well, they need to have that conversation; it’s healthy. And it saves any misunderstanding in the long run,” Brian reasoned, but somehow condescended.

“It’s a good way to spook her right out of her skin, that’s what it bloody well is,” Freddie said.

Roger sat on the toilet and watched his bandmates bicker over how Roger should broach the subject with his girlfriend, his mouth hanging open in a way that made him resemble a dead fish. All while the plan in his head took shape. “That’s it,” he smiled. “I’ve got it.”

His bandmates hushed their bickering as soon as it started and looked at the drummer. “What have you got?” Deacy asked.

“I know how to tell her,” he said, getting to his feet. He power walked away from the trio, calling back, “Just finish the bloody song alright?! I’ve got work to do!”

Roger’s heart pounded twice as fast as his feet hit the pavement, walking at the speed of light down the promenade. Every so often, he’d break out into a run, but quickly slowed down as he didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention. He was going back to the flat.

From the street, he could look up and spy you, sitting out in the late afternoon sun, with a glass of wine in your hand. The sight made his insides flutter. He couldn’t wait for the lift. Not when the love of his life had been sighted and she was within touching distance. He could practically smell your perfume hanging in the winding stairwell up. He breathed deep. He broke a sweat. And then he finally arrived at the flat.

“Darling?” Roger called, announcing himself in the hallway. He waited nervously at the door, rubbing his hands together like it was a chilly winter’s day. This was anything but; the sweat beading down his forehead said that much.

“What are you doing back?” you asked from the balcony. “I thought you were at the studio?”

“I was,” Roger shrugged realising that you weren’t coming through to greet him. Instead, he followed your voice. “But I needed to see you.”

Your glass of chardonnay had barely touched your lips, but that sentence stopped you right in your tracks. You narrowed your eyes and glanced up at Roger who was lingering at the door frame. “Why? You could see me tonight. I could wait up.”

Roger sighed and sat down at the table, opposite you.

This filled you with dread; the stomach-dropping kind of dread that threaten to have you hunched over the toilet in seconds.

Then he flashed those baby blues of his at you. “My divorce came through today,” he said.

“That’s it?” you shrugged. “I thought something was wrong. Let me get you a glass and we can celebrate,” you rambled, rising to your feet. Less than a foot from the door, Roger seized your hand and pulled you back.

“We do need to talk, though,” Roger said.

Only now did you notice how glassy Roger’s eyes looked beneath his sunglasses. You turned to him and slipped them to the top of his head, exposing the sparkling, red eyes that gave away how he really felt about the situation. And it caught you off guard. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Roger admitted. “That’s the worst part.”

“You look like you need a drink for other reasons now,” you commented.

He nodded in response and twirled the bottle of chardonnay in his hand, studying the label; gauging how wrecked he’d get if he guzzled the remainder. “Something a bit stronger, too.”

“I’m on it.”

Safely out of Roger’s view, you braced yourself against the counter top.

It worried you – Roger being so cryptic. It also worried you how much you had given up to be here with him. Your job. Your friends. Your life. All just to be with him.

More fool you, though.

You had only just met the bloke and you were carrying on like he was the love of your life.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you bowed your head. This felt like a familiar theme in your relationship with Roger and you couldn’t be sure whether or not it was a bad thing. In any other relationship, this was bound to be a massive raging red flag; the amount of times one can drag the other to the brink of heartbreak, just with a few words and a little bit of miscommunication. All you wanted was to be happy. Your brain repeated that like a mantra that didn’t improve anything. It just made you shake as wave after wave of sorrow tugged at your body.

“You still with me, darling?” Roger called through.

You couldn’t answer. You couldn’t let him see the tears. But it was too late.

You took so long to respond that Roger appeared at the door. When he saw you, his entire figure sank. “Oh my darling,” he sighed, taking you in his arms. “What are these for?”

“Because you made me think we were done, there,” you whimpered into Roger’s shirt, letting your mascara fray outwards in dark, inky pools. “And I’ve given up so much to be with you and I didn’t know if this was because of me or something I’d done. You should be happy that it’s over – your marriage.” You looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Why aren’t you happy?”

Roger rubbed his hands up and down your arms and spoke wistfully. “Because, darling, I’ve wasted an entire fucking decade of my life on someone who never ever loved me. And I’m not even sure I’ve grown as a person because it. I’ve almost certainly missed out on everything I wanted in terms of relationships and settling down. I’m old now. And I’m going to be even older when we finally decide to start a family or settle down. If we decide to do that.” By the time Roger had finished that portion of his monologue, his fingers had laced with yours. “I don’t want to be an old dad,” he laughed.

You swept Roger’s hair back, exposing his aged, furrowed brow. He looked completely serious, unlike his usual self. “Is that why you’re so unhappy?” you asked.

Roger nodded, tugging his lower lip between his teeth.

You rolled your eyes and wrapped your arms around his torso, drinking in his scent. You propped your chin on his chest and gazed at him like he was the most precious thing in the world. “I love you, Roger Taylor,” you reassured. “I’ve given up everything for you.” You chewed the inside of your cheek, gathering the rest of your thoughts. “Maybe not marriage though, because… that didn’t work the first time. But I’m in this for life, just so you know. Whatever you want.”

Roger softened. A look of pure love made him younger in an instant. “Do you mean that?”

“Always.”

“And you want kids?”

“Yeah. But don’t let me become one of those annoying yummy mummy Facebook cretins. I want them to have normal lives, ok? No weird names. No nannies. No private schools. Understand?”

The lines at the edges of Roger’s eyes extended outwards as he beamed: “Understood!”

“How soon can we do this?” you asked, snaking your hands up over Roger’s chest and draping them around his shoulders.

You and Roger had decided to go out for dinner to celebrate his divorce. Somewhere fancy by the lakeside, under a canopy of twinkling golden stars.

Just you and him and no one else.

You sat, not on opposite sides of the table, but beside each other so you could stare out at the lake as you planned your future.

“How long do you think Queen will go on for?” you asked, leaning your head on Roger’s shoulder.

“As long as we can darling,” he said. “Why?”

“Nothing. I’m just wondering when I get to go out on tour with you,” you said, trying to avoid the point you itched to make. “Must be nice to travel the world.”

Roger moved away from you, narrowing his eyes and draining his glass. “Well, you’ll be coming out next year, surely?”

“Where do you think we’ll be off to?”

“Fred’s completely against going to America for obvious reasons. I don’t think they’re as accepting over there as they used to be. So probably not America.”

“I don’t blame him.”

“We might have too, thought. That’s the thing. It’s a case of convincing Fred.”

You gave a quiet laugh; you didn’t know Freddie very well, but you had a feeling he could be just as stubborn as Roger. Meaning that no one and nothing could convince him of anything when his mind was made up about something.

“I reckon we’ll go all over Europe; that’s a dead cert,” Roger rambled. He looked beautiful, leaning back in his chair and scratching his neck, groaning like an exhausted lion. Just a sliver of his soft tummy peeked out from underneath his shirt and you couldn’t resist leaning into him to scratch it. Then he continued. “Ever been to Paris?”

You shook your head. “I’ve been to the usual. Spain,” you groaned. “Tenerife.”

“You’ve been to Ibiza, too,” he reminded, a warm smile on his lips.

“Oh yeah!” you giggled. “Tell me more about Paris, Roggie.”

Roger laughed to himself, closing his eyes. “It’s a surprise.”

You whined. “Well, tell me where else we’re going then. So I know what to pack!”

“It’s a year away, darling.”

“Just give me a tiny clue,” you pressed, holding up your thumb and forefinger to illustrate the size of the clue you desired.

But then, interrupting the tranquil scene, a gaggle of loud voices burst into the pop-up restaurant. They were all too familiar, much to Roger’s disappointment. “Shit,” he spat. He shot you an apologetic look and stood up, stretching out his arms to welcome his bandmates and their partners.

Freddie and Jim, Brian and Anita, and Deacy and Veronica all dragged seats up around your table, and began chatting to Roger. They congratulated him on his divorce and asked him what was next. All the while, Roger looked utterly bashful as he grasped your hand and gave it a series of reassuring squeezes.

You wondered whether he was trying to communicate with you in morse code. You laughed to yourself at the thought. You didn’t know morse code; but Roger was smart, he probably did. You squeezed back.

Thankfully, the attention turned away from him. He was free to talk to you again; getting his undivided attention against the backdrop of mindless, half-drunk chatter. He turned to face you. “When are we heading home, Kitten?” Roger half-whispered, stroking your hair.

“Getting impatient or is it past your bedtime?” you quipped.

Roger smiled and shook his head. Then looked back at you with a lustful glint in his eye. “I can’t wait to get you out of that bloody dress,” he teased, his hand finding its way to your thigh underneath the tablecloth. “And this is boring.”

“It really is, isn’t it?” you whispered moving closer to his neck. “I think we should try and get home now, Daddy.”

“What’s our strategy, Kitten?” Roger asked mischievously.

“Well, I had the seafood. I could pretend to be sick. And then…” you trailed off, jerking your head in the direction of the flat.

“That might work,” Roger said, kissing your jaw.

Just as the moment escalated in heat, the sound of someone obnoxiously clearing their throat cut through your moment, forcing you and Roger to turn your heads towards the group that had so rudely decided to crash your date.

“What?” Roger asked, annoyance cutting through his tone.

Deacy piped up. “It’s Veronica and I’s anniversary tomorrow evening. We were hoping we could do some celebrating. But we need a babysitter.”

Roger narrowed his eyes, pointing vaguely around the table to his friends and their partners. “Why can’t any of you?”

“I don’t want little Robert keeping us up with his crying and everything,” Freddie said. “You know how scratchy my voice gets when I don’t get enough sleep.”

Brian was next to offer up an excuse. “Anita and I were going to go out to the vineyard over there for a couple of nights.”

Roger straightened up in his seat as he considered offering his babysitting services. Just as he was about to open his mouth to speak, you were quick to interrupt.

“What about tonight’s babysitter, Deacy?” you asked. “Can’t you get them to babysit tomorrow?”

“She says she can’t,” Veronica explained. “She has exams at uni and she needs to be at all her lectures on weekdays. We tried.”

You and Roger gave a simultaneous sigh and looked at each other. “Guess we’re gonna have to do it,” you shrugged.

“Guess we do,” Roger agreed.

“Alright, we’ll do it,” you conceded, driving daggers through Deacy and Veronica in your mind. You didn’t want to but they didn’t leave you with much of a choice.

“He can sleep in the spare room,” Roger continued.

“And we’ll be on our best behaviour,” you added.

“Yeah, we’re gonna need to call everyone up and cancel the orgy we had planned. Shame, really. I was looking forward to it,” Roger remarked.

The joke didn’t land well. But it wasn’t far from the truth. Every night since you arrived in Montreux, you and Roger would spend your evenings in bed together, figuring out all the new and debauched tricks he could teach you. And figuring out what you liked and what he could do to please you. He loved to please.

But the night after your ruined dinner date, you and Roger flitted around the flat in a frantic attempt to baby proof the place. Barricading the doors to all the balconies, locking away your restraints and sex toys, and removing all alcohol from your lower cupboards in the kitchen. Roger looked out of breath, standing in the middle of the living room with his hands on his hips, trying to find even the slightest thing that baby Robert might get hold of and hurt himself with. “Do you reckon we got everything?” he asked, squinting at you.

You shrugged. “I’m more concerned with how we keep him occupied all night.”

“Fuck. Do you know, I’ve never had to look after a baby before?” Roger said. “How do we do that?”

“I think you start by taking the word fuck out of your vocabulary, darling,” you said wandering through to the living room and wrapping your arms around him.

“And what do we feed them?”

“Something soft? I don’t know. Does he have teeth yet?” you asked. “When do they get teeth?”

“I’ll tell you, I don’t even know. I think he does. Last time I saw him he bit me.”

“Ah, right. Great. He’s a biter.”

“He’s weird. He looks like Deacy,” Roger said, flopping down on the couch.

You followed suit, straddling his lap. “Do you think we’ll be good at this?” you asked, running your hands up and down Roger’s chest. “Looking after a kid? I don’t even think either of us are grown up enough if I’m honest.”

“We probably aren’t, darling,” Roger sighed, giving your thighs a squeeze. “But we didn’t really have much choice did we?”

You laughed quietly. “I mean, for real, Roger. A baby of our own.”

Roger closed his eyes and allowed his imagination to run away with him, wondering what that might be like. He wasn’t going to lie, he loved the idea of being a dad. And if he was going to do it, it would have to be with you. “It’d be different if it was ours,” Roger sighed.

You let your own imagination delve into that thought, conjuring up images of Roger playing with a squad of blonde, feral kids that were undoubtedly his own. He’d be fantastic. Warm and wise, fun and fearless. You wanted that. But you couldn’t help but feel like your relationship was on shaky ground for the foreseeable. You’d have to see what next year’s tour meant for you.

“When do you reckon you’d want to…” Roger trailed off.

“When we’re ready. After the tour next year?”

Roger’s eyes flicked open. “That sounds good.”

“There’s a lot we need to figure out when you’re on tour.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do.”

He nodded. He already knew the answer to that, but sometimes he needed to hear it for himself. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

“You’re gonna do the hard part,” Roger laughed. “Can’t be easy pushing a watermelon out of a small hole.”

“Roger!” you squealed, whacking his chest. “That’s disgusting!”

“That’s exactly what it is!” Roger retorted.

Interrupting your argument, the buzzer on the intercom sounded, notifying you that your tiny guest had arrived. Roger sprang to his feet and turned to you. “I’ll get it! You just see if there’s anything else Robert might hurt himself on while he’s on his way up.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine, Roger,” you called as he left the room.

Out in the hall, Roger answered the intercom and buzzed Deacy and Veronica up to the flat.

You stayed put, wandering around the open space inside the living room, looking out at the early evening sunshine. You folded your arms and found yourself drawn to the window. The sun looked glorious. Deacy and Veronica had picked a fantastic night to celebrate their anniversary. You wondered where they planned on going. If you and Roger hadn’t been imposed upon, you knew you’d be sitting out on the street at Funky Claude’s – the pair of you quaffing overpriced cocktails and watching the people flit down the street in a midsummer daze. Bliss, you thought; far away from having to look after a pair of strangers’ child. Maybe you weren’t cut out for being a mother? You knew deep down that you wanted it, but you were still trying to figure out what was an acceptable age to stop giving your friends a bottle of whisky and a wire coat hanger as a congratulatory gift for getting themselves knocked up. You also balked at baby updates from them and couldn’t fathom why the vast majority of your friends ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ over babies. Maybe you’d be a crap mother after all? That worried you. Especially after the weighty commitment you made to Roger.

So lost in your own woes, you hadn’t noticed Deacy, Veronica and their tiny terror entering your home. You had your back to the door, travelling away at a hundred miles an hour on the stress express.

“Darling?” Roger sang. “The Deacons are here.”

You glanced over your shoulder and, realising that the family had indeed arrived in all their finery, you turned to them.

They were a humble pair. You would never have known that Deacy was a millionaire. He looked like the stereotypical industrious tightwad, you thought as you hugged and kissed the couple politely on the cheek and wished them well on their life sentence together. And when the niceties were over, your eyes searched the room for little Robert. “Where is he?” you cooed in a fake tone. “Where is the little guy?” You did your best to plaster on a wide, manic smile, that didn’t exactly sit right with you, but clearly hit the spot with the anxious parents.

“Here I am!” the three-year-old called, blustering into the room, clutching a large dinosaur toy. “I’m here! I’m here!” He continued, finding his way to your leg and clinging to it for dear life.

You patted his head, and beamed down at him. “Well, we’re going to have lots of fun, aren’t we?”

“Yeah!”

Roger began to usher the couple from the flat, fearing that they might miss their dinner reservation. “He’s in good hands,” he reassured. “We’ll feed him at six and he’ll be in bed by seven.”

“And you’ll make sure you tire him out? He gets a bit restless in the hour leading up to bedtime. He sometimes won’t want to have his bath. Just make sure he’s tired when you do,” Veronica wittered.

Roger laughed, “He’ll be fine! You’ve left enough for him to be getting on with. Now, both of you, go, before you miss your reservation!”

“Fine, fine!” Veronica caved, pulling Deacy away by his arm. “We’ll pick him up in the morning. Hopefully we won’t be too hungover when we get him and we’ll try not to be late!”

The door finally closed leaving you and Roger solely in charge of Robert. In truth, you didn’t think he was going to be a problem. He sat on the sofa with his dinosaur and sent it zooming through their air while you and Roger watched him like he was a wild animal, and you were too afraid to spook him. Every now and then, you and Roger would lock eyes from opposite sides of the room. Soft looks that made you desperate to have each other. Suddenly all of those doubts about settling down together melted away.

“Robert, dear?” you began, sitting down beside the small boy. “Do you want a little drink of juice and a snack?”

Robert didn’t take his eyes off the dinosaur. Mumbling a quiet, “yeah.”

You looked up at Roger, exchanging confused looks; little Robert might prove to be hard work, still.

“How about we watch a film?” you suggested.

“Sounds nice,” he squeaked.

“What do you wanna watch, buddy?” Roger asked, giving the small boy his snacks and sitting down next to him. “Hm?”

“Don’t know.”

You and Roger looked at each other again, worried about how to keep him preoccupied.

“How about the Lion King?” you suggested.

“Yeah.”

Roger puffed out his cheeks and grabbed the remote, putting the film on. By his estimation, it would take you up to dinner time. And then bath time. And then bed. And you were free after that – an easy run at this parenting malarky, or so he thought.

You and Roger enjoyed the first hour of the film before Robert piped up. “I have to pee.”

Half-asleep, Roger propped himself up. “Right, pal, come on. I’ll show you where the toilet is.”

“I’ll get dinner on,” you suggested. “How about chicken nuggets and chips?”

“Pee first!” Robert squeaked, tugging at Roger’s jeans.

“Fair enough,” you sighed as Roger and Robert disappeared down the hall.

Getting to your feet, you wandered over to the freezer. This was a staple when you were a kid.

You dumped the chips and the chicken nuggets onto a tray and then stuck the oven on.

Robert was sure to like this; it had to be a winner to get the Deacon boy on side. But he was so like his dad that you could never tell if you were coming or going with him. Three years old and he already had that trait down to pat.

You bunged the tray into the oven and glanced towards the cupboard full of wine glasses.

Roger and Robert sauntered back into the room and threw themselves back on to the sofa. There was only half an hour left of the film. Enough time to cook dinner. An hour, tops, and he’d be in bed.

You could do this.

“Did you find the toilet, okay?” you asked Robert.

He nodded.

“I’ve just put the dinner on. Chicken nuggets and chips? I even got the dinosaur chicken nuggets. Your daddy told me you liked those the best.”

“They’re my favourite animal!” Robert said, perking up. “I love velociraptors.”

Roger pondered for a moment, playing along. “I think I like t-rexes better. They’re bigger and they have funny little arms.”

“I always feel bad for them. Think of all the things they can’t do,” you said.

“Have you ever seen Jurassic Park?” Roger asked Robert with a fun look in his eye. “I think you’d love it. There are lots and lots of dinosaurs in it.”

Robert smiled and shook his head. “Can we watch that?” he asked, turning around and deferring to you.

“Oh, I don’t know,” you began, wracking your brain for all of the non-child-friendly things in the film. You weren’t about to let a child in your care go to bed straight after having seen a film that gave you nightmares when you saw it as a child. “It’s a bit scary for you, Robert.”

“I’m a big boy. I can handle it,” Robert smiled, looking at Roger for back up.

“I mean, it’s not that bad is it, really?” Roger said. “He can eat his dinner and watch it. And then bath time should give him a little bit to calm down if it gets too scary.”

“Please!” Robert pleaded, clasping his hands together and begging you with his wide hazel eyes. “I won’t tell mummy and daddy, I swear.”

Sure, it scuppered your plans for wine, but maybe you could sneak some if he was so engrossed in the film. You’d have to look after him for longer before he went to bed. Then there was the possibility of nightmares while you were busy getting drunk and doing god knows what with Roger in the middle of the night. Is this what parenting entailed? If so, you could safely count yourself out of the game for the foreseeable future.

But the little boy looked adorable, presenting his dinosaur to Roger.

“Is there any of these in the film, uncle Roger?” he asked.

“Well, if Auntie Grump lets us watch it, we can find out for ourselves, can’t we, pal?” he said, taking the dinosaur and jumping it along the coffee table.

You dropped your arms down by your sides and gave a dramatic sigh. “Oh, alright! But you need to eat all your dinner, and be in bed on time, ok? No excuses!” you said, wagging your finger at Robert and Roger. You shot Roger an especially stern look.

Roger put the film on while you kept an eye on dinner. He had no problem connecting with the boy; of course. He was Roger. Everyone and everything gravitated towards his warm and inviting nature.

They huddled together on the sofa, with Robert’s dinosaur, and watched in amazement at how real all the dinosaurs on screen seemed.

“Do you think they used real dinosaurs for this?” Robert asked in awe.

“I think getting real dinosaurs might have been a bit expensive,” Roger explained.

Truth be told, Roger was going to make a fantastic father and that, in itself drove you insane. You almost felt guilty for still having reservations about this, seeing how much Roger enjoyed looking after Robert. The soft look on his face as he carried Robert through to the spare room when he fell asleep during the film made you want to jump on Roger there and then.

But he looked exhausted as he wandered back into the living room. He hadn’t done anything except chat to the small boy for a few hours. But it was enough to make him collapse back on to the couch and breathe a sigh of relief as he closed his eyes.

“You’re really good with him,” you said, taking your place beside him.

“I tried as well as I could,” he said, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you even closer to him.

You patted his chest, congratulating him for getting through the evening. “Kind of makes me think we should get some practice in,” you laughed.

“Yeah?” Roger asked, widening his eyes.

You nodded and sat up breaking away from his embrace. “But first, I think we need some wine.”

“Wine would be lovely.”

Roger watched you over the back of the sofa as you opened the fridge and plucked out a perfectly-chilled bottle of prosecco. Even though his lids hung heavy over his eyes, you knew he felt exactly the same way as you. He couldn’t focus on the bottle or the wine; his eyes were glued to you and the way that your body moved as you sashayed back over to him, swaying your hips as you carried two glasses of golden bubbly goodness back to the sofa.

He took his glass and held it up. “Well, cheers to baby making I guess,” he smiled.

“To baby making,” you agreed, clinking your glass against his and knocking it back. Your body relaxed in an instant.

“That dress looks nice on you, by the way,” Roger commented, thumbing at the material over your thighs. “Really shows off those lovely hips of yours. I love it.”

Blood rushed to your cheeks, feeling like he had you under a microscope. “Thanks. You look… like the perfect dad?” you responded, squinting one eye, unsure of the point or the tone you were trying to go for by giving him that compliment.

“That supposed to be a compliment?” Roger asked, swallowing the last of his wine.

“I like my men old and refined, so yes,” you smiled.

Roger grinned and glanced over to the fridge. “Why don’t we take the bottle to bed?”

You sat up straight; heart pounding, stomach fluttering. “Won’t Robert notice?”

“He’s out cold.”

“But what if he has nightmares and walks in?”

“We just tell him it’s a special grown up cuddle. My mum told me that all the time.”

“Yeah, so did mine but it didn’t stop it traumatising me,” you giggled. “We’ll need to be really quick.”

Roger drew his calloused fingertips underneath your jaw. “What’s the point in being quick, Kitten?” he purred. “It takes time to do things properly. Don’t you want to enjoy it?” He was dangerously close to your lips. So close you could practically taste the wine on his.

You froze feeling a surge of adrenaline course through your veins. Your voice shook. But you gave in. “Yes.”

Roger’s hand skirted underneath the hemline on your dress, caressing your thigh as he spoke to you. “So should we take the wine through to the bedroom and get started, Kitten?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you sighed, leaning in to plant a firm, lingering kiss on Roger’s lips. “You get the wine.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, springing to his feet. But he had to play catch up with you. You were already in the centre of the bedroom, shrugging out of your dress, letting it pool around your feet. When he caught a glimpse of you standing there in just a set of skimpy lingerie, he stopped in his tracks, clutching the wine and glasses in a shaking grip. “Thought we were going slow, Kitten?”

You glanced over your shoulder, purring, “Is this too much for you, Daddy?”

This left Roger at a loss for words. All he could do was watch as you slunk over to the edge of the bed and sat down, patting the space beside you. Beckoning him over.

He complied, handing you a glass and filling it. Then filling his own. You could hear his breath wavering in his chest and he almost spilled some wine as his hands trembled.

“Drink up, Daddy,” you reassured.

Roger downed his glass and hastily sat it down on the floor.

“Do you need something to help you relax?” you asked, trailing your fingers down his chest. “Because I can help with that.”

“No, no, Kitten. Let me do all the work, please,” he gasped, slinking down on to the floor and settling on the carpet between your legs. His hands worked their way up your shins as he peppered quick, eager kisses along the insides of your thighs. “You just sit there, drink your wine and look pretty,” he instructed, before moving on to the opposite thigh to lavish it with the same care and attention. “Let Daddy take care of you…”

Roger’s mouth was something akin to a religious experience. You relished the opportunity to have him planted squarely between your legs any chance you could get. You loved how hungry – ravenous – he became. He could never resist. It didn’t take him long before his fingers looped underneath the waistband of your underwear and yanked them down.

Finishing the rest of your wine, the glass drooped out of your hands and dampened the sheets with the dregs as you eased back.

Roger’s tongue worked at your folds, lapping away at them and gathering all the sweet, heady wetness he could find, groaning enthusiastically as he savoured every drop. He tugged and nipped at them, pulling them between his lips, sucking at the sensitive pink flesh until it swelled and tingled. He knew how to amp up the need you felt. His hands gripped at your bottom, adding another layer of delicious sensation to the mix and forcing you further on to his mouth, getting as close as he possibly could to make you writhe against his tongue as he dipped it inside you.

You knew exactly what Roger was trying to do. He was trying to get you to cry out in pleasure, rippling his tongue inside you. Curling it in on itself. Fucking you. A precursor to the onslaught his cock was poised and ready to deliver when it came down to it.

But you were so aware of the sleeping child in the next room. You clamped your hand over your mouth in a desperate bid to avoid giving Roger the rapturous praise he desired for stringing you out to the point of orgasm in minutes flat. Instead, you quietly quivered.

Roger’s tongue was dangerously close to your clit.

If he couldn’t get you to scream his name, he had to try a different tactic.

Pursing his lips together and sucking on that little bundle of nerves, he flicked his tongue wildly over it at the same time.

This was electric.

That move had the intensity of a thousand wildfires being set ablaze all over your body, racing towards your cunt. It had you clawing at the sheets in no time.

But the kicker came when his fingers replaced his tongue, burying themselves inside you. One, two, three, four. Stretching you out close to your limit and pumping away in rapid, damp motions that would’ve completely given you away had you had adult company. Your body rocked in time to every single thrust, your cunt tightening around his hand more and more.

But you still couldn’t let go of your inhibitions.

It was too dangerous.

“Tell me how much you like it, Kitten,” Roger hummed.

“I fucking love it, Daddy,” you sighed in desperation. He just kept you in a mind numbing trance of being right at the very edge. And you wished with your entire being that you could just step off already. “I need to come so badly,” you whined.

“What’s wrong, Kitten?”

“I just can’t let go.”

Roger looked concerned as he shuffled up the bed towards you; so close that you caught your scent on him. “Are you ok?” he asked.

“I’m fine, I just can’t do this with the boy in the next room,” you sighed.

“That’s ok,” Roger whispered, nestling his face against your neck. “Slowly.”

“Slowly,” you agreed, wrapping your thighs around him and grabbing a fistful of his hair to kiss him deeply, tasting yourself on his lips.

His hips stirred against yours as the moment grew in intensity, your tongues lapping away at each other’s. Arms tangled and fingers raking through each other’s hair. Two bodies glued together, and moving as one. “I want you so much,” he murmured as he broke the kiss.

“Have me,” you smiled, kissing his nose. You tugged at one of the belt loops on his jeans. “But you’re gonna need to lose the clothes first.”

“Right, yes,” he said, stumbling backwards on to his feet. “Good idea.”

For some reason, Roger seemed nervous too. You his hands still shook as he fought to undo the buttons on his shirt and tug down the fly on his jeans. There was something arousing about watching him shed his clothes for you; soon enough, your own hand returned to that spot between your legs to try and finish the job Roger started.

He settled between your thighs again and looked down. Your hand was still working overtime – he loved to watch but only for so long.

The tip of his cock pressed deliciously up against your entrance. So inviting, given how swollen Roger’s cock was, leaking precum over your already dripping slit. You manoeuvred your hips, trying to grasp it, to suck it in, to coax him, but Roger wasn’t playing ball.

Instead, he pumped his hand around his length, reminding you of just how much he could fill you.

Your pleasure-addled brain needed to have it.

But he wasn’t giving you it.

You let out a needy whine, coupled with a desperate, “Please.”

Roger laughed to himself, moving on to phase two of his teasing.

Your hips might have been trembling wildly, but he still managed to slide his cock up and down over the length of your cunt, making his cock slick and glistening with your juices.

You repeated another feeble plea. “Please, Roger fill me.”

“I will, Kitten, don’t worry,” he said softly, still teasing you in the most horrific and torturous way. “But first you need to tell me what exactly you want. What’s making you so desperate, Kitten?”

Your mind drew a blank and your hips clearly had no consideration for Roger’s line of questioning. All they wanted to do was seek his cock out and have him fuck you mercilessly, like an animal in heat.

“What’s got you all riled up?” He repeated. “Use your words, Kitten.”

Your fingers still circled your clit, by now making you a complete and utter mess.

He wasn’t going to get any sense out of you, that much was clear.

But it didn’t stop him from trying. He slapped your hand away. Then, when you recoiled, he slapped your cunt. “Use your words, Kitten. You’re not getting my cock if you don’t.”

“Oh but Daddy…” you protested, rolling your hips. “I just want…” you couldn’t verbalise it. The urge inside you. The reason you were so frantic.

“You want me to pump a baby into you, Kitten, don’t you?” he said, replacing your fingers with his own.

God those words sent a shiver right through you in the best way. A growl rumbled in your chest as you arched your back against his efforts. “Mmm, please knock me up!”

“That wasn’t so hard,” he soothed.

But nothing could prepare you for the savage way that his hips snapped into you, forcing a yelp from your lips.

“You want me to knock you up? Hm, Kitten?” he asked, pressing his lips on to your neck to mark it up and claim you.

“Oh god, yes.”

“Say it, for me, Kitten,” he scolded. “Tell me what you fucking want. I want you to beg for it,” he continued, pounding you into the mattress with his weight on top of you. “Just so I know you’re sure.”

Your brain was so fogged, but now that Roger had reminded you of why you were in this position, the words came more easily. “Knock me up, Daddy,” you whined. “I’m ready. I want it.”

“Good girl,” he whispered, kissing your jawline, a trail all the way up to your mouth. “You’re gonna be such a good mummy. So fucking sexy too. I can’t wait to see you grow and for everyone to know what I did to you.”

The way he talked was exactly what you needed to send you over the edge and you didn’t care who heard. Clutching at the sheets, you thought your entire soul was shaking as you hurtled through powerful convulsions and contractions that milked every single drop of come Roger could muster right into you.

You and Roger collapsed in a sweaty breathless heap together, with him still on top of you. Your brain tried to fathom what had just happened.

It all became clear when Roger rolled off of you, and looked your way with the biggest, softest grin you had ever seen.

“Think that did the trick?” he asked, reaching sideways to pat your belly.

In between trying to catch your breath, you still had enough reserve to crack a joke. “You know, for someone who claims to have a biology degree, you have a shocking lack of understanding about human reproduction.”

Roger laughed, batting his hand through the air. “I’ve watched the Discovery Channel. It’ll be fine.”

“Better throw the rest of my pills out if we’re serious,” you said.

“Only if you really want to. I’m in no way wedded to the idea.”

“Yes you are.”

His rosy cheeks puffed out into a grin akin to a chubby cherub that you just couldn’t resist: “Maybe I am.”

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader

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raretastes · 5 years ago

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Thoughts on JeArmin ship page Wikia

Recently I been busy with my webtoon, so I forgot about my favorite stuffs in a moment. But whenever I got tired of the works, I recharge my energy with browsing anything about Jearmin. I love some fanfictions, I also love some art works, let’s talk about that next time, because right now I am going to share some thoughts I got when I browsed wikia page of my favorite ship.

I have the urge to share it, because well, I think some of what contains there is a bit exaggerated and can be misleading. Misleading in the way that... when someone is not following AoT and they wondering about JeArmin, and they read the wikia page, I’m pretty sure that person will got the wrong way about how Jean and Armin interacted in manga or anime.

I love Jean-Armin relationship because they both guys.

Yes, because they both are guys

since I cannot screenshot for unknown reason, I will just copy paste what I read from this link .. so, I hope it’s not annoying. Please be reminded that these are personal opinions, and if you annoyed by my personal opinions, or judge me for that, I have no problem. You can add more if you like ;)

okay, here goes!

In the "sudden visitors" OVA Armin is in team with Jean and tries to help him beat Sasha in a cook off. When Armin breaks his leg he is unhappy that he can no longer be of use to Jean.

I had watched this OVA, it was fun, it was great. What I see from this scene is, Armin is a loyal friend, but he has his own moral code and standard. And he is the kind of person who is not supporting any act of cheating, that’s Armin’s integrity.

Yes, Armin did saying that he is unhappy that he cannot help Jean any further. But I had read somewhere, I kinda forget where did I watched or read it (it’s like AOT Junior High or small 4 panel comic about AOT), but it’s about Armin intentionally break his legs off to skip something he didn’t like. So, to me, this scene is about Armin leaving Jean in the most subtle and politest way.

But duh! Breaking your own legs to leave someone? That’s kind of dark, Armin.

On their first scouting mission, Jean admits that Armin used to creep him out, but he has always believed in his abilities.

Yes! I love this scene, to me this scene shown Jean’s quality as a human. Jean was annoyed for Armin being “gay” to Eren, but it doesn’t blur his opinions. This shows how Jean can think logically and clearly. Sometimes when we judged someone bad, everything about them turned bad. Even when they do great things, we would see it as being malicious, Jean is far from that, and he kept believe in Armin more than any other comrades (I’m sure of it).

During the rematch between Eren and Annie, Jean and Armin are seen talking on the rooftop before working together to lead Annie into a trap. In the aftermath of the fight they have a couple scenes together, talking everything over.

That’s correct but... it’s not like they are kissing over there

Armin tries to protect Jean from a titan after he is knocked unconscious during the Scouts' operation to retrieve Eren. On their return back he and Jean are on horseback together.

Yesss!! I love this scene. When I saw this scene, I swore that I will stop following AOT if the author kill Jean.

Armin is probably stronger than we think he is, how he managed to get Jean into horseback behind him remains mystery.

In the cabin, the two of them are shown together when Eren wakes up after remember Ymir and Bertholdt's conversation.

We just treasure every moment Armin and Jean are seeing together, aren’t we?

When Armin and Jean are disguised as Historia and Eren, Jean struggles to watch as one of their captors fondles Armin and makes him cry. Later when Levi instructs Armin to fix the man's gag, Jean does it for him to spare him any more distress.

My favorite scene. Yes, this scene shows them back to back. They got such adventures together. Mikasa was there, spying from the roof and she cares more if Armin’s disguised will be blown out, more than worrying about her childhood friend getting molested. Poor Armin

When Jean is about to be killed by one of Kenny's subordinates Armin shoots her to save his life, despite this going against his morals.

Love this scene also, especially in manga where Armin did looked like a boy with serious killing expression.

Jean and Armin are seen talking to each other and working together on Historia's orphan farm.

oh okay, another scene together... did something happened? Did someone said something sweet during the scene? Or kissing or holding hands perhaps? I haven’t watched this episode, just skip it right to the beast titan war.

Jean seems to place great faith in Armin as shown when he repeatedly turns to him for advice when their situation becomes dire during the Battle of Shiganshina.

In manga, this is heavily shown. But not very much in anime. What I like better about this scene is not about how Jean being dependent to Armin in vibes: “I need you, I am nobody, I can’t do anything, I need you!”,

but instead, this vibes: “I trust you and your command. I know you need time to arrange things, and so I give you your break. Leave the rest to me, I got your back!”

I liked more when Jean took over the command when Armin is being turned down by the situation. Jean spares Armin some time to calmed himself down and helps Armin to avoid fatal mistake he almost made. This part showing how Jean and Armin is similar and can work together in leading and commanding.

Because they both are guys.

When Bertholdt burns Armin, Jean cries at Armin's supposed death and is relieved and emotional at his revival.

no, he wasn’t crying. A drop of tear was seen, but not crying. Jean also did not cry on Marco’s funeral. Sad yes, but emotional no. Big NO. Jean is not easy to drip tears. I watched this and I read this too, anime and manga, Instead Eren is the one who cried, screamed, tantrums, and Mikasa is the most emotional upon Armin’s death (it was a very sad, desperate scream), and Connie was cried. They show more emotion than Jean.

Jean just being stunned as he watched how Armin got burned and like our regular father, nobody seems to know what’s on his mind.

But my best bet is, this is what Jean thinking about when he saw Armin’s burned body :

1. He was stunned because he saw Armin as the savior of humanity, like Levi. A hope for humanity. He is counting on Armin. So when Armin is “dead”, but the war still going, it’s like an empty win. He basically just losing hope for humanity within the walls.

2. If anything about emotional, it’s probably guilt. Perhaps he thought that he forced Armin to think of something and it costs him his life. But judging how Jean is, I don’t think Jean would acting like it’s his responsibility.

but I agree that Jean did feel relieved. Although I disagree about “emotional” because he was actually the least who shown emotion on Armin’s situation. (I’m not including Floch, he is on Erwin side, that’s why)

In Attack on Titan: Junior High!, Jean said, “Maybe I haven’t got a girlfriend because we’re always together.“ which means they always hang out and do that kind of stuff together

I know this scene might exist, but in which episode I can’t remember. But I have to rewatch this because I have to make sure what is the situation when he said that.

Okay that’s all my personal thoughts on Jearmin wikia page.

I was hoping to see more scene between Jean and Armin being partner and all, but it seems like Isayama likes Eremin better. Hey I’m not being discouraging, just like Jean, I’m being honest. If you disagree, then no problem, not everybody loves honesty. :)

#jearmin #jean x armin #armin x jean #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

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captain-kingliamsqueen · 6 years ago

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The First of Many - Until We Meet Again - Part 3

Pairing: Liam x MC

Summary: …DISTANCE MEANS SO LITTLE, WHEN SOMEONE MEANS SO MUCH!

When King Liam manages to break free from his Marriage to madeleine and takes a trip to new York for the biggest UN event of the century. What happens when his suitcase doesn’t make it to new York with him. when a stranger comes to his rescue to find appropriate clothing for the Event. What happens when he meets the woman of his dreams but she already has a home along with a Mutli-billion dollar business in New York.

Word Count: 5,289

Masterlist

Tagged : @starstruckzonkoperatorbat @drakelover78 @queencatherynerhys @devineinterventions2 @jayjay879 @kawairinrin @hopefulmoonobject @flyawayboo @gardeningourmet @blackcatkita @syltti78 @theroyalweisme @hhiggs @mfackenthal @barbaravalentino @pens-girl-87 @barbaravalentino @umccall71 @darley1101 @crookedslimecreatorpasta @jamjar84 @starstruckpixelberryhistoryvoid @speedyoperarascalparty @katurrade @scarlettedragon @zeniamiii @annekebbphotography @liam-rhys @perfectprofessorherokid @mynameiskaylabella @marywrites-things @zaffrenotes @cocomaxley @innerpostmentality @alepowell @missevabean @romanticatheart-posts @smalltalk88 @sarwin85 @lodberg @classylady1234 @liamxs-world @wannabemc2 @thequeenofcronuts @jared2612 @gibbles82 @carabeth @jovialyouthmusic @liamxs-world @blackcoffee85

ASK IF YOU WANT TAGGED! SORRY IF I MISSED ANYONE!

I always notice every single spelling mistake or issue after I’ve posted…so apologies in advance!

After leaving Kayliegh’s house, Liam headed straight for the airport catching the guys just in time. Liam didn’t last until he got on the plane, he was only twenty minutes into the drive on the way to the airport when sent Kayliegh the first message. After that it was non-stop, he would laugh or chuckle every few minutes then type rapidly. Drake couldn’t get Liam to look up from his phone. They were ten minutes from beginning to land when Liam felt something hit the back of his head. This had been happening for a solid ten minutes.

“Drake…I will open that door and throw you off this plane If I feel one more grape hit the back of m-” before he could finish what he was saying he felt another one “Drake!!! You made me send the wrong gif!!!” he turned and glared at him

“do you hear yourself?!” Drake laughed “you’re like a twelve-year-old with a crush!”

“am not”

“are too”

“am not!”

“will the two of you just shut up!” Bertrand groaned

“keep out of it!!” the two turned on him, shouting at the same time…they turned to each other not saying a word then the two burst out laughing.

After landing the guys all headed back to the palace, then Bertrand and Maxwell headed to their estate whilst Liam and Drake headed inside. The two headed down the corridor towards their quarters, due to the time different and the duration of the flight, by the time they got back to the palace it was getting late, Liam's phone buzzed in his pocket indicating that Kayliegh had text him back, he pulled his phone out with a grin unlocking it and opening the message, just as they rounded the corner, Liam nearly bumped into Regina. “sorry” he mumbled as he carried on walking not looking up from his phone. “Liam?” she called…no reply. “what’s gotten into him?” she asked Drake. “his new…Lady friend” Drake smirked

“what?” she went bug eyed “walk with me Drake…who is she?” she asked as the two turned and started walking down the hallway.

“Kayliegh Reed” he smirked

“The Kayliegh Reed?”

“yes”

“was she at the UN party?”

“she was, but that’s not how they met, his suitcase got lost somehow it didn’t make it to New York, anyway, the night before the party we all went out for some drinks and dinner, we met this girl…Kayliegh’s Sister”

“I see” she smiled

“she overheard us talking and said she might be able to help…so we took her up on her offer, she took us to Kayliegh house…well it wasn’t much smaller than the palace, I wouldn’t call it a house” he laughed along with Regina “anyway, we got there, she agreed to help…Liam spent the night at her house, they stayed up all night putting together a suit for him”

“she made that suit in the pictures?” she asked

“yeah”

“he looked so regal!”

“I know right…anyway, I got a text about an hour before the ball from Liam, saying he was going to meet us at the venue and that he was bringing Kayliegh…she went home early a little upset about something, I don’t know, but Liam was insistent that he was going to make sure she was okay, he ended up staying the night, he said the two of them were talking and fell asleep on the sofa…I don’t know what happened between them…but he’s like a twelve-year-old with a crush Regina…he’s smitten…” he laughed “Maxwell thought he might just be on the rebound bound…but you should have seen the way he looked at her…”

“what did you think of her?”

“she was feisty…” he laughed “but she was sweet”

“well…she sounds it, to help a bunch of strangers like that”

“I think you would have liked her a lot.”

“maybe I’ll get to meet her someday soon” she smiled.

As much as Regina had made some bad choices over the past few years, she wanted Liam to be happy, she treated him like he was her own. Madeleine may have been her blood relative, but Regina knew she was bringing the crown to its knees, the public were noticing Liam's unhappiness. Regina had been Liam's confident on more than one occasion about what was going on with madeleine. She was the one that urged him to make a change if he wasn’t happy…he can’t be expected to rule a country if he’s unhappy all the time.

“Regina…what are you planning?” Drake smirked as they came to Regina’s quarters.

“oh…nothing” she laughed as she unlocked her door. she bid Drake goodnight then headed into her room.

Back in his room, Liam had changed into his nightwear, then climbed into bed before placing his laptop on his knee, he started sifting through documents and files he had to read.

By the time two months had past, Liam and Kayliegh hadn’t gone a single night without talking, whether it be texting, calling, video calling. They sat up for hours every night, just talking about their lives. That day Kayliegh had messaged Liam telling him, she had exciting news and that she would call him nine pm his time.

That night Liam made sure he finished up everything he had to so that he could be back in his quarters by the time she called.

Liam was in the middle of brushing his teeth when the phone started ringing.

“dammit” he mumbled with his mouth full of toothpaste as he ran into the room, he quickly lifted his phone and pressed answer before carrying it into the bathroom

“giff me twwo thecondth” he quickly spat his toothpaste out, then gargled some mouthwash, once he was finished, he laughed as he lifted the phone making his way back into the bedroom “I’m sorry, I was in the middle of brushing my teeth”

“it’s okay…so how was your day?” she giggled

“it was great, I visited the new primary school in the capitol, then I just spent a couple of hours signing papers and stuff…it was pretty relaxing believe it or not” he chuckled

“I looked it up, the articles about the grand opening last week, like you told me, it looks great, the children look so happy”

“they were all so full of energy today, it was great”

“it sounds it!”

“so, tell me…what’s your big surprise?” Liam asked as he settled into bed.

“well…I got a call from my assistant earlier today and she informed me that a one Queen Mother Regina had called and personally invited me to the Fashion show to raise money for Portavira”

“Regina called?”

“yes…she spoke to Alison, she sent all of the flight details and everything over…I’m coming to Cordonia on Friday”

“that’s amazing Kayliegh!! I’ll have a room fixed up for you…you can stay at the palace!”

“Liam, I can’t, I wouldn’t want to intrude like that!”

“you won’t be, I promise, I would love it, if you came to stay at the palace whilst you’re here…I stayed with you whilst I was in New York, its only right you stay in my home whilst you’re here” he smirked

“alright” she chuckled “I’ll stay at the palace”

“how long are you staying?”

“I don’t know, Regina said its open tickets…I was thinking …I’m long overdue a holiday…but that was when I was staying at a hotel…I wouldn’t want to take advantage of your hospitality”

“No, that’s fine, I would be more than happy to have you here for as long as you want, the more time I get to spend with you the better”

“well…then… a week or two in the sun sounds great” she whispered

“I can’t, I want to show you all of the best places to see, the capitol…Portavira, Lythikos…all of it!”

“are you sure you won’t be too busy your Majesty?” she giggled

“I will make sure of it”

“well…I would really like that”

“I can’t wait to see you, Kayliegh”

“I can’t wait to see you…ive actually missed you a lot”

“you sound surprised” Liam chuckled

“I am…” she laughed “I mean, we spent what not even fort eight hours together, two months later and I can’t stop thinking about you”

“well, I hope you know I am no different to you…I too can’t stop thinking about you”

As the week went on, Liam's butterflies grew and grew, he had never been so nervous about having a visitor at the palace. he couldn’t wait for her to arrive. Regina had suggested that he take some time off…to spend some time with Kayliegh, she told him whenever he needed, she would deal with the royal duties, which he was ever so grateful for. Kayliegh was to land in Cordonia at four pm on the Friday, Liam hadn’t told her, but he was going to take his car and pick her up from the airport.

When Liam arrived at the airport on the Friday, he had tried to be as discreet as possible, he wore a black baseball cap and sunglasses, with jeans and just a casual shirt. Liam sat on the bench closest to the doors that she would be coming through. Every so often he was looking at his wrist to check the time.

It was quarter past four when the doors opened, Liam looked up as soon as he heard them opening, he watched each person that walked through them, looking for her face. He smirked as his eyes fell upon her face. she was wearing, just your everyday casual clothes, jeans, loose t shirt, jacket and sneakers. Liam stood from the bench as Kayliegh stopped and looked around for a sign with her name on it. he lifted the piece of paper on the bench and turned it towards her. As she turned and seen the paper she smirked, she made her way over, trailing her suitcase behind her. The closer she got, she more she recognised him. She picked up her pace when she realised it was him. Eventually when she got close enough, she let go of her suitcase and wrapped her arms around him, resulting in him doing the same.

“It’s so good to see your face” she whispered as she held him tight.

“It’s so good to actually feel you in front of me” he sighed contently

Liam slowly pulled back, his hand found itself placed on Kayliegh’s cheek.

“I’ve wanted to do this for too long” he whispered before he placed his lips on hers, she smiled into his kiss as she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck.

“Mmmm” she hummed with smirk “ditto” she giggled as she pecked his lips then slowly stepped back… “this is a really nice surprise” she smirked

“I have another surprise for you…but we have to get back to the palace first”

“will you at least give me a hint?”

“nope…you’ll have to wait and see” he smirked “now…we should hurry, here, let me take that for you” he smiled as he reached for the handle of her suitcase.

“such a gentleman…here, let me take that for you” she giggled as she took his free hand in hers, intertwining their fingers.

“now that was smooth” he laughed as they headed out to his car. The two headed straight for the palace, Liam Pointing out the scenery and naming different places as they passed them.

“the view is to die for” she grinned as she looked out at the sea view, she felt something touching her hand, as she looked down, she seen Liam linking his fingers with hers, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

“you like the view from the car you should see it from the palace…there’s this little place in the capitol, it has the best view of Cordonia, it may be one of the places I plan on taking you this evening” he smirked as he placed his hand on top of hers on the middle seat.

“really? I’m excited! I can’t wait”

Kayliegh gasped as the palace came into view.

“is that?”

“yes…that’s my home” Liam smirked

“it’s beautiful, Liam”

“thank you”

Once they pulled up at the doors they climbed out, Liam grabbing Kayliegh’s suitcase whilst she carried her carry-on luggage. They made their way inside, staff greeting them as they entered the palace. Just as Liam and Kayliegh went to head up the stairs to the room he had prepared for her, Regina walked into the foyer.

“Liam, my dear your back” she smiled as she walked over

“and you must be Kayliegh Reed” she extended her hand for Kayliegh to shake it.

“that’s what it says on my birth certificate” she giggled as she shook her hand “it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Regina.”

“It’s so good to finally meet you, my dear, Liam has not stopped talking about you”

“Regina!” Liam flustered

“all good things I hope”

“all great things my dear, I’ve never seen him so happy”

“oh really?” she grinned

“I have to run, I have a meeting to get to, but I hope at some point during your stay, we can have lunch together”

“I would absolutely love that”

“I’ll have you slotted into my schedule”

“just let me know when” Kayliegh nodded before she and Liam bid Regina goodbye then they headed up to Kayliegh’s room. Liam unlocked the door with the key from his pocket, then opened the door, allowing Kayliegh to step in first, then he followed quickly after, closing the door behind him, he placed the key for her on the bedside table, then placed her suitcase in her closet.

“Now this is a luxury room” she giggled

“would you like to know what the surprise is?” Liam smirked

“of course,”

“well…if I may not be too forward with you…I would like to take you out on a date…if that would be okay with you?”

“a date? I would like that very much” she nodded “I would actually like to talk to you about something”

“oh?” he asked concerned

“yeah, don’t worry, it’s nothing to worry about…so anyway…tell me, what’s the plan for the evening?” she asked as she walked over to him, stopping in front of him with smile.

“I have made reservations at the best restaurant in Cordonia, then I was thinking we go to that place I was telling you about earlier, then maybe we could take a walk along the beach”

“that sounds amazing!” she whispered, “What time will you be coming by to pick me up?” she asked with a chuckle.

“reservations are for six o’clock so if you are ready for five-thirty, I will come by then” he laughed

“alright…don’t be late” she smirked

“I wouldn’t dream of it”

After Liam left the room, Kayliegh started getting ready for their date. She chose a long black maxi dress, with long sleeves, and a high slit in the side, she paired the dress with a pair of plain black, slightly pointed toe, stiletto heels. She had her hair curled and pulled to the side. She had neutral make up with a slightly bolder lip.

When the clock struck five-thirty, there was a knock at her door. she grinned as she opened the door to see Liam.

“wow” she whispered as she looked his body up and down, he was adorned in a modern fit black suit, it was a formal looking suit with a white shirt, with the top two buttons undone.

“you look very handsome” she smiled

“and you, my dear…you look…absolutely stunning” Liam took her hand in his, lifting it to his lips, he placed the gentlest kiss on her skin. “these are for you” Liam smirked as he pulled his arm from behind his back to reveal a bunch of red roses

“they are gorgeous…thank you” she smiled as she leaned up and kissed his cheek. She moved over to the dressed were she sat the roses down, “do you think someone could put them in some water for me?” she asked as she moved over to the bed, she had sat her clutch bag, she lifted it along with her key, then she made her way out of the room.

“of course, I’ll get one of the staff to do it whilst we are out.”

“thank you” As they walked down the hall, heading for the main stairs, Liam slyly slipped his hand into hers, she curled her fingers around his hand causing him to do the same to hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. They made their way out to the car waiting for them, then headed out on their date. They were in the car for all of twenty minutes, when they pulled up outside a romantic looking place. Liam climbed out of the car then reached his hand in for Kayliegh to take, as she did, she climbed from the car, then they headed inside. They were greeted by a rather chipper old man, who quickly made his way over, pulling Liam into a hug.

“Liam, it’s been so long”

“It’s great to see you again Alex”

“and who is this?” Alex gestured to Kayliegh.

“Alex this is Kayliegh”

“Well, Kayliegh, it’s a pleasure to meet you, you look magnificent this evening”

“thank you, Alex”

“so, Liam…is this a date?” Alex wiggled his eyebrows at him

“Alex!” Liam blushed

“come on…you can tell me” he laughed

“yes, it’s a date” he chuckled

“well…I hope all goes well” Alex smirked “I’ve prepared the tables out on the beachfront, just take your pick of which one you want, I’ll be waiting on your table tonight” Alex smiled as he showed the two out to the deck.

“Wow, this is just magnificent” Kayliegh gasped as she seen the view from the deck, the sun was just setting, casting an umber glow on the beach. “Shall we pick a table” Liam smiled as he took gestured for Kayliegh to take her pick. “that middle one” she smiled as she pointed to it. “it’s right in the middle, not too far onto the beach not too far away from it either”

“why don’t you both have a seat then I’ll get your drink orders.”

After getting them their drinks then taking their food orders Alex headed inside leaving the two alone.

“so…you said you wanted to talk to me about something?” Liam asked as he took her hand in his overtop of the table.

“yes…I…Liam…I just want to be clear on what…this is” she gestured between the two. “I mean…are we really REALLY good friends?” she smirked “or are we aiming for something more?”

“okay” Liam smiled… “alright well, why don’t we start by telling the other how we feel right now, in this moment?”

“okay…I’ll go first” she smiled “I like you…I like you A LOT…. I am extremely attracted to you, Liam…I love spending time with you, and I want to keep spending time with you...”

“okay…” Liam smirked a he squeezed her hand “I too like you A LOT, from the first moment I laid eyes on you, ive not stopped thinking about you, every time I see you or hear your voice, it makes me happy, I think you’re extremely smart and thoughtful, it’s no secret that your very beautiful, I am very attracted to you, I want to spend as much time with you as possible” Just as Liam finished talking Alex walked through the doors, with two plates in hand, he placed them down in front of Liam and Kayliegh then wished them a good meal before heading back in after they thanked him.

“Liam, my life plan, is to find a husband, to love and care for me, better than my last one, have a family, children, puppies, whether that man is you or not…I don’t know…but I would very much like to find out.” She admitted as she started to dig into her food as Liam done the same.

“Kayliegh, all ive ever wanted is to find a woman who means more to me than anyone in the world, I want lots of beautiful little babies, dogs running around…I want it all…but being king can sometimes make that difficult…I really truly think this could be something special…and I want to see where it goes”

“I know it won’t be easy, we live 4,000 miles apart, but nothing ever is, being who I am, isn’t easy…being married wasn’t easy…everything that happened with louis wasn’t easy, getting over everything that happened wasn’t easy…nothings easy…the best things in life are usually the hardest…if you think it’s worth it…you fight for it, and this…me and you, Liam…I am more than willing to fight for.”

“I am too, I want nothing more than for this to work”

“then that’s it? we’re...kind of dating?” she blushed with a giggle “that sounds really corny doesn’t it?”

“Maybe courting would be a better word for it, that sounds a little less cheesy”

“courting? I like that! it’s like we’re in the 50’s or something…is that even the Right decade…I don’t know I like though…” Liam chuckled as she babbled away.

“I like it too”

After the two finished their main meal, then went on to have desert than another drink each. When Alex came back out, he took away their empty glasses “can I get you both another?”

“thank you, Alex, but I think we’re going to head out now” Liam smiled

“okay, no problem, are you heading back to the palace or is the night still young?”

“the night is still very much young, I’m taking Kayliegh to the sky view bar”

“Liam's loved that place, since the day I showed him it” Alex informed Kayliegh

“oh? so how did you guys meet?”

“I met Liam not long after the Queen Died, he would leave the palace for hours at a time, he would go to the library in the capitol and sit outside reading, that’s where I met him.”

“Alex was a great help after my mother died, he helped me come to terms with everything that had happened.”

“now, I’ve told you, why don’t you tell me how you two met?”

Liam and Kayliegh told him the story of how they met.

“I think that sounds a bit like fate” Alex smirked

“Alex…I didn’t ask, how is Rosie doing?”

“oh, she’s fine, she’s got a little bit of a bug…but she stills finds the energy to shout at me” he laughed with Liam and Kayliegh

“give her my best wishes, I hope she feels better soon”

“I’m tell her you were asking for her” he nodded “I should let you get going, don’t be a stranger!”

As Liam went to pull his wallet out, Kayliegh went to get her purse.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, this is on me” Liam smirked

“now, come on, let me pay my half, I ate too”

“honestly Kayliegh, I’ve got this”

“I won’t take no for an answer Liam…I ate too, I will pay for my meal” she laughed

“let me be a gentleman and pay”

“you can still be gentleman Liam, my time is just as valuable as yours, why should you pay for me, but I don’t pay for you? We both ate, we both pay” she smiled

“alright! This is going to go on all night, you’re both as stubborn as the other, this meal is on me” Alex laughed

“no, Alex, we couldn’t” Liam refused.

“Liam, you know I won’t accept your money in here, ive told you time and time again…”

“Alex…”

“I too will not take no for an answer, you repay me, by looking after my country, Liam”

“Alex, thank you” Liam gave him a gracious nod as he stood from his seat, followed by Kayliegh doing the same, Liam reached his hand out to shake Alex’, Alex smirked then pulled Liam into a hug.

“you come by again soon, you hear me?!” he patted his back

“of course,” Liam laughed as they both pulled back.

“and you my dear,” Alex turned to Kayliegh pulling her into a hug “you don’t be a stranger, I promise you, he’s a keeper.”

“oh, I know” she smirked

After bidding Alex goodbye, Liam and Kayliegh left the restaurant, as Bastian went to open the car door for them, Liam cleared his throat, “Actually, Bastian, I think I would like to walk, if that’s okay with Kayliegh?”

“of course, that’s fine” she nodded

“of course, Your Majesty” Bastian nodded then closed the door.

As Kayliegh and Liam headed down the street, Bastian walked not far behind them. Kayliegh slipped her hand into Liam's, the smiled at him when he looked at her smiling.

“I hope you don’t mind” she whispered

“of course, not”

It took them just a few minutes to reach the bar, Liam opened the door allowing Kayliegh to walk through first, then they made their way up the stairs and out to the main bar. Kayliegh gasped as she seen the view “my goodness, look at that!” she whispered “that’s amazing, Liam”

“it’s beautiful isn’t it” he smirked as he moved to place his hand on her lower back. “why don’t we sit down over there” he pointed at a table in the corner, looking out over the banister. “okay yeah” she nodded “I’ll get us some drinks, what would you like?”

“I’ll have a glass of wine, thank you” she smirked

“oh, feeling adventurous?” Liam wriggled his eyebrows

“I am actually” she laughed “I’ll go sit down at the table”

Liam nodded then watched her walk towards the table, he smirked to himself as he walked to the bar, he got their drinks then headed over to Kayliegh. He placed two glasses of wine on the table then sat himself down. the two sat all night, just talking and laughing away.

By the time ten o’clock clock came, Liam had made his way round to sit next to Kayliegh, instead of across from her, he had his arm around her shoulder, Kayliegh lay her head on his shoulder with a yawn “it’s been a long day” she whispered “it’s been the best day though” a smirk fell upon her face.

“it really has been” Liam whispered as he turned his head and placed a kiss on her head “it’s getting late, maybe we should head back? we can walk along the beach, on the way back to the car?”

“yeah, that sounds great” Kayliegh agreed, the two stood up, Liam took Kayliegh by the hand then they headed out. They took a shortcut down between two of the building’s that came straight out onto the beach. Kayliegh pulled her heels off, carrying them in her free hand. Just a few minutes into their walk she turned to Liam, “do you mind if we sit down somewhere?”

“of course, not”

“I want to take advantage of it, it’s just so peaceful here”

they took a seat on the sand, just far enough where the tide wouldn’t hit them. Liam lay, leaning back with his hands linked behind his head, whilst Kayliegh lay horizontal to him, with her head on his stomach.

“I prefer the beach at night, than during the day” she whispered “I mean I like the heat, during the day, but at night, it’s just so peaceful, it’s a great place to just…breathe for a minute”

“it’s nice, to just get away for a little bit” Liam whispered as he gently ran his fingers through her hair.

“if you keep doing that, I’m going to end up falling asleep”

“I’m so happy you’re here, Kayliegh”

“I am too, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now”

After a further ten minutes sitting on the beach the two stood to their feet then carried on down the beach towards the car. Kayliegh shivered as she moved in closer to Liam.

“Here…” Liam shrugged off his blazer and went to wrap it around Kayliegh’s shoulders

“no, I’ll be fine, we’ll be in the car soon, if I take your jacket…you’ll get cold”

“I’ll be fine, come on, please take it” he smirked as he placed it over her shoulders.

“thank you” she whispered.

Once the two reached the car, they climbed in then headed back to the palace. By the time they got back, everyone else was already either in bed if they live there, or at home if they didn’t. Liam walked Kayliegh to her room, they both stopped at the door, Kayliegh turned after unlocking it, Liam placed his hands on her waist, taking a step closer to her, she smiled as she looked up at him, “thank you for this evening, Liam, I haven’t enjoyed myself that much in a really long time”

“me too” he whispered, after about thirty seconds of silence Liam whispered “you know…I really wanna kiss you right now” his hand gently made its way to Kayliegh’s cheek “do it” she whispered just barely audible. Liam quickly moved in, linking his lips with hers, they both moved in-sync like they were one, as the kiss heated up, Kayliegh’s hands ran through his hair, messing it slightly. She held him as close to him as she could. Liam's hands made their way around down and around her body, finally landing on her back.

“Li-Liam” she mumbled out of breath as they just barely pulled apart, their foreheads leaned against each other’s “yeah?” he replied as he breathed deeply “M-maybe w-we…we should…um stop” she whispered as she moved in to kiss him again.

“of course,” Liam mumbled into her lips as his hold tightening around her. “This is us…stopping” he moaned quietly as his tongue ran along her lip. Kayliegh let out a quiet moan as she gripped his hair in her hands, causing him to groan. After a further minute or so, Kayliegh gently placed her hands on his chest as she pulled back a little.

“we’re still in the corridor” she breathed deeply

“of course, we should…um…we should pause right there” Liam whispered

“I umm…I should get to bed, I’ve had a really long day”

“of course, sweet dreams, Kayliegh. If you need anything…more blankets or anything…I’m just next door” Liam placed the gentlest kiss on her lips “goodnight” then he moved towards his room, never taking his eyes off her. “goodnight, Liam…Sweet dreams” she whispered as she watched him head into his room and close the door. she followed suit, going into her own room, she shut the door then fell back against it, running her hands over her face.

“holy shit” she whispered to herself, once she changed and done her night time hygiene routine, she headed for bed. She placed her phone on her bedside table, then curled up under the covers. she sat wide awake, hot and bothered for way too long. She tossed and turned, she couldn’t shake the feelings he left her with.

“fuck this” she groaned as she threw her duvet from over her, then stood from the bed, she pulled her robe on, then made her way towards the door, once she was out, she locked the door behind her. She made her way to Liam's door, gently knocking then waiting for him to answer. Just seconds later, the door opened. Liam smirked when he seen her, “play?” she whispered “play!” he smirked as she barrelled towards him, wrapping her arms around him, pushing her lips on his, he quickly responded to her, wrapping his arms tightly around her, he pulled her close to him as their tongues attacked each other. Liam lifted her into his arms, she wrapped her legs around his torso, as he turned to walk over to the bed, he kicked the door shut.

And that night…they both hoped would be the first of many!

If you like it, maybe give it a wee reblog! <3

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radiantcutice-blog · 6 years ago

Text

Prison Break

Ten keys.

Not all of them are useful, not to Len, but the weight of them in his fingers is grounding, even more so than his gun strapped to his thigh. Barry had been aghast, of course, when Don and Dawn brought them to Len, but now Len wonders if they hadn’t known, somehow, that he’d need them. If it was really just a coincidence, or if it was something more. He hadn’t bothered asking, just thanked them softly, again and again, and promised he was getting their dad back.

Sam and Marc follow him up through the abandoned hospital wing to Iron Heights proper, surveying the cells around them as prisoners start to stir. Their time is limited; even with Barry playing along, Papercut and Folded Man can only keep him occupied for so long; so Len gets to work.

Blacksmith stays where she’s at- Len doesn’t have time to butt heads with Miss New Rogues, nor the patience to try and rein in her chaos. Murmur doesn’t get a second glance, either- he needs a breakout team, not a mass murderer.

The first person Len lets out is Girder, and it’s clear that it’s not out of any goodwill. He locks eyes with Woodward as he opens the door, breaking the airtight seal of his cell and watching the agony crawl across the metal man’s face. “Snart,” he creaks, lurching towards him, but Len keeps moving, letting Sam and Marc push the iron golem towards the Pipeline security that’s surely on its way. If he rusts away, good fucking riddance. Len has no sympathy for a rapist.

Abra Kadabra and Plunder both get passed over, Kadabra briefly meeting his eyes to sneer at him. The 34th century man has thrown in with the Light, and Len wants nothing to do with them, certainly not in a position where he’d be indebted to the shady fucks. He’ll get his people without throwing in with the death cult that nearly handed the world to aliens, thanks.

Plunder- well, Morillo’s just useless.

Len slows at Doctor Alchemy’s cell, rapping lightly at the door to draw his attention from his book. “Desmond.”

“Snart,” Alchemy replies, finger holding his page as he shuts his book briefly. “To what do I owe the honor.”

“Was wonderin’ if you were lookin’ to take a walk,” he suggests, and, while Alchemy sighs, he doesn’t go back to his book just yet.

“And what would incentivize this… walk, Leonard?”

He smiles, briefly. “Flasher’s takin’ it kinda hard over in the city proper. Heard Magenta was gettin’ called in to reinforce him.”

“How is Miss Kane?”

“One way to find out.”

Albert considers Len for another long moment before fully setting aside his book. “I think I’d like that.”

Len nods, unlocking the cell and lobbing the Philosopher’s Stone at Desmond underhand, the Heights-issued version of his costume melting from where it meets his glove outwards. Once he’s really dressed, Alchemy nods regally, striding past Len into the hall.

“Head for the abandoned hospital wing. There’s a tunnel out. And don’t let Girder follow ya, if you don’t mind?” Len suggests, chuckling as Alchemy makes a familiar face at the mention of Woodward.

“Certainly not,” he mutters, reaching out to touch Len’s parka lightly. “Tell your family, when you see them next, that I said hello.”

A nod satisfies him, and he turns to leave, slipping past Sam and Marc as they rejoin Len, past where Girder is engaging the Pipeline guards, and towards the exit.

Peek-a-boo is next, curled up in her cell with her knees to her chest, and Len knocks again, gentle, to get her attention.

“Lashawn?”

“Whatever you’re sellin’, I’m not buying,” she snaps, pulling in tighter on herself, and he sighs.

“Your pop’s at the top’a the transplant list. I figured you’d wanna get out to see him.”

That catches her attention and she stands, slowly, arms still wrapped around her torso. “What’s in it for you?”

“You see your family, I see mine.”

Len can see the doubt, can’t even blame her for it. She’s a good kid. “And after?”

“After, I got papers for you. Clean identity. You can get yourself back to school, see your dad every now and then- no strings attached. Even see what we can do about that metagene of yours.”

If she turns him down, Len’s willing to move on- it’ll suck, but he is. He figured he should at least give it a shot, though.

“One job,” Lashawn tells him, and he nods.

“One job, kid,” he agrees, unlocking her cell and giving her a wide berth to exit, Sam passing over her confiscated gear as their group keeps moving.

He doesn’t have a key for the final cell he stops in front of, and both Sam and Marc make disgusted little sounds, but they know they’re desperate. No one says a word, all regarding each other warily from across the glass.

“Your boyfriend know you’re here, Snart?” August asks casually, too casually, and Len doesn’t resist the urge to roll his eyes.

“The Feds shoved my people in a swamp to rot. You wanna help me help them, or you gonna sit here and twiddle your thumbs like you couldn’t leave whenever the hell you want,” Len challenges, and the spark of lightning in Heart’s eye tells him all he needs to know.

“You letting me out or not?”

Scudder fires off a shot into the glass of August’s cell and steps through, reaching to grab the speedster by the wrist and yank him through into the hall with the rest. August raises his brows and tilts his head a little, obviously offering his collared throat for Len to do something about.

He makes an indignant noise when Len turns away. “Hey, cabrón, forgetting something?” Heart calls, and Len would ignore him if not for the fact that he doesn’t hear his feet moving.

“I’ll take it off when we get where we’re goin’.”

That doesn’t make August any happier. “Really? Someone touches Baez and she blows, and you’re more worried about keeping me under wraps?”

Lashawn doesn’t look impressed by being dragged into this, and Len can hardly blame her, meeting her eyes for a moment before looking directly at Heart. “Baez hasn’t, to my knowledge, expressed interest in killing me before.”

The staredown lasts a good dozen seconds longer than Len would like, but, finally, August shrugs. “Fair enough.”

Marc snorts and Sam doesn’t bother hiding his grin as Len turns away again.

The screech of metal follows them out through the abandoned hospital wing and the tunnels- the screech, and the bellow of Tony Woodward in pain.

Maybe it says something about Len that he doesn’t even flinch.

They leave the Heights behind them, the sounds of fighting ahead in Central proper as Booker and Edwin keep Barry “occupied,” but the group turns towards Keystone instead, to one of Sam’s personal hideouts. He’s obviously still put out by bringing August, glancing over his shoulder with a slight sneer as he unlocks the door of the warehouse and hustles everyone inside and down to the basement.

One whole wall is covered in a mirror, and Len stares up at it as he waits for Sam to lock up and come downstairs, ignoring the heavy silence of their guests until Sam steps into his peripherals.

“Alright.” He turns, setting out the map of Belle Reve, created from his own stay and the twins’ memories, marked with guard towers, security cameras, and any other notes Len had deemed necessary, and begins laying out the plan.

Len counts down on his fingers and then signals for them to go, emerging simultaneously from four panes of glass on Belle Reve’s outer guard towers to take out all of them at once. It goes down without a hitch- Len can hear it over his earpiece, the quick confirmations from the others- and he looks out the window to see the dark clouds over the prison growing even darker, heavy with rain that starts to fall over the outer courtyard. There’s a ripple of unhappiness in the guards in the yard, noises of complaint coming over the tower radio, and they let it go on for a while before Marc increases the storm further, the distant first flash of lightning and the rumble of thunder signalling them to come down from the tower and meet.

When they’re in one place, he pulls one of Lisa’s devices from his pocket- his sister’s damn brilliant, not that Len didn’t already know- and deactivates August’s collar, scooping it up and shoving into an inner pocket of his parka. Heart’s whole body crackles with the familiar static of the Speed Force that makes Len’s hair stand up and his lichtenburg scar itch.

“Wizard. Give him a jump,” Len instructs, and both men glance at him, Marc in concern and Heart in confusion.

“You sure about that?” He nods, and Marc blows out a sigh, taking a moment to focus, eyes shut, more lightning streaking through the clouds over the prison to hide what he’ll do next.

Heart doesn’t look reassured. “What do you mean, a jump?” he asks, and Len can hear the tremor in his voice, used to hearing it when Barry’s stressed, the way he vibrates, trying not to just bolt.

“My wand manipulates electron fields,” Marc murmurs, opening his eyes- they, too, spark and glow with lightning, bright blue, and Len sees Lashawn step back in the corner of his eye. “I can turn potential energy into kinetic- what you speedsters run on. It’ll put you on top of your game, chabón.”

“M’already on top of my game,” Heart argues, but his interest is pretty obvious, and he takes a breath, glancing up and waiting for the next strike of lightning to let the Speed Force come over him, materializing his bright costume in a flash of white-gold lightning. His voice vibrates more now, Godspeed’s voice instead of August’s, and his gold lenses land on Marc. “Hit me.”

For the first time since Len suggested this, Marc actually grins- he can’t help being eager, and Len knows he’s been dying to test this theory for ages- and raises his wand, shocking August with the next lightning strike, blue mixing with Godspeed’s white until the speedster’s edges blur, glowing unearthly and wreathed with static. Lowering the wand again, Marc’s eyes return to normal, still grinning as he steps back.

“You alright, Godspeed?” His head moves- a nod, maybe?- and one speedster becomes two becomes three, and oh, Len hopes this wasn’t a mistake.

“Never better, Snart,” one of them answers, and Len nods curtly.

“You know your role.” All three move their heads- yeah, it’s gotta be a nod- and wait for the next crack of lightning to take off into the yard, disarming guards and knocking them out with a speed and precision that Len would take a moment to admire if he weren’t focused on the job. “Mirror Master, cameras. Wizard, storm. Boo, on me.”

They break, fluid, determined, and Len feels a pang of longing for the old days, when a small team like this would’ve been him, Mick, Lise, Sam, and Digger, just the five of them against anyone who got in their way. It’s so sudden that Len’s pace falters and Lashawn spares him a glance, but he waves her on, pulling the cold gun from its holster and powering it up as they pass the crumpled forms of guards, their dismantled weapons scattered in the mud.

He freezes his heart just like he does the prison wall, watching frost creep over the thick concrete as the beam of his gun reflects in his and Lashawn’s goggles until he releases the trigger, stepping back even further to let Baez do her part.

Standing close but not too close to the frozen wall, Baez shuts her eyes and teleports, the explosion sending brittle chunks of concrete flying through the air. A crack of thunder follows, and Len squints to see through the blinding explosion and the glow of lightning- Godspeed is there, one of him, at least, knocking aside shrapnel in a circle around Len and Lashawn and glancing over his shoulder when he’s done.

“Don’t get yourself killed. Barry would kick my ass,” he tells Len, and it almost seems like a joke, before he bolts again, leaving the duo to get back to their job.

Once the wall is down and Sam confirms he has control of the cameras, two of Godspeed dart ahead into Belle Reve, the clank of turrets and power suit pieces followed by the thump of unconscious bodies as Marc, Lashawn, a third August, and Len make their way in. Sam emerges from the dull shine of a polished metal “mirror,” making a face but not complaining as they head through the halls.

“How’s it lookin’?”

“Deadshot, Plastique, Frost, Bronze Tiger, and the Shark,” Sam relays grimly.

“We couldn’t have gotten any less?” Len grouses, the dull throb of a headache starting at the back of his skull. This is going to suck, but they’re going to do it. They have to. “If Waller lets Task Force X out, Heart, you’re on Bronze Tiger. He’s one of Waller’s enforcers on the team- least likely to listen to reason. Master martial artist, so watch yourself.” Heart nods and is off to help his doubles.

“Nanue shouldn’t be hard. Great whites fall into hibernation under a certain temperature, it’s just a matter of getting him there,” he murmurs, hand on the cold gun. “Peek-a-boo, I want you on Killer Frost. She needs to touch people to absorb heat-”

“-And touching me’s a bad idea,” Lashawn finishes. Not a hard conclusion to come to, but it still makes Len smirk when she does. “Got it.”

“Wizard-”

“Plastique,” Marc volunteers. “Same trick as Heart on her explosions.”

“I got Lawton,” Sam rounds out. “Wiz and I are gonna head for Glider and Top.”

Len nods and they split off to head for the thick glass that separates the two halves of the prison’s indoor exercise area, to the other side where the other Rogues await them. Lashawn keeps pace with Len, no longer faltering as he gets closer to his husband, freezing over unconscious guards to keep them down if they wake up before the job is done. It’s only when a bullet hits the ground in front of his feet that he stops his determined march, hearing Lashawn gasp as she nearly runs into him and hastily stumbles back, trying not to blow while Len searches for the source.

Deadshot waves down at him from a guard post and Len sneers.

“Hey, Snart.”

“Whataya want, Lawton, I ain’t got the time,” he snaps back, voice cracking like ice against the concrete walls, and Lawton raises his hands in innocence, showing that his finger’s off his trigger.

“The Wall was pissed you got to Boomer’s corpse before her. Could’ve been real useful to her,” Lawton drawls, and Len could shoot him, here and now, he really could.

“She wasn’t about to desecrate one of my people’s bodies.”

Lowering his hands again, Deadshot leans against the low wall in front of him, gun dangling in a loose grip that Len knows says nothing about how dangerous he is right now. “I know, Snart. I know.” He searches for his words, and, for once in the conversation, he seems sincere. “I’m glad she didn’t get him, either.”

Len eyes him for a long moment before Lawton nods, flicking on his safety and shoving his gun in the waistband of his prison orange. “My people and me didn’t see a thing. Never encountered you. Go get your family.”

Nodding back, Len gestures for Lashawn to follow, deeper into the prison until they reach the cell block, people gathering curiously at their doors, murmurs getting louder when they realize who and what this is.

Cries of “Cold” or “Snart” are ignored- voices he hardly recognizes or doesn’t care about, no, he’s not here for them- no, it’s the first tentative, tired call of “Lenny?” that grabs his attention.

“Motek,” Len breathes, and he’s at Mick’s cell in an instant, the bruises on his skin and under his eyes making Len’s heart ache, but the little smile he gives Len- god, he’s missed it. “Step back, Mickey.”

He does, his cellie taken back with him by a strong, scarred arm, and Len freezes the cell door, kicking one of the icy bars to watch the whole damn thing crumble.

Mick rushes him for a kiss, and Len grips him even as Mick shivers, even as the prison jeers and yells around them.

“Where’s everyone else?” he asks his husband when he pulls away, and Mick goes from lovey to his game face, confident strides leading Len to the other two Rogues scattered among the prisoners, each of them freed, collars deactivated, and joining the pack, their cellmates left to do as they please.

Len doesn’t stop them from going for the guards, embracing Hartley and muttering my boy into his long hair before bringing Roy in, too, slapping his back heartily as he lets go.

“Couldn’ta been any quicker about it?” Mick grumbles- Len knows, doesn’t snap back, just takes his husband’s hand and squeezes briefly before leading heading towards the rec area, getting a raised brow. “That ain’t the way out, boss.”

“Sam and Marc are getting Lisey and Ros, and we’re all meeting at the big glass,” he explains, the others’ eyes widening in comprehension and letting him push on, the crackle of static crawling up the back of his neck as they head further in.

Mick feels it, too, looks hopeful for a moment, but Godspeed skids into existence and his whole face darkens. “Him, Lenny?”

“I did what I had to, motek,” he answers, knowing that will be a whole other talk when they get home. “What’s going on, Godspeed.”

“Jump wore off,” he answers, voice still buzzing, but not as hard. “I can still maintain one other- he’s doing another round now. Be here soon. Guards are still out, but the cameras are starting to come back online.”

Len nods curtly, lets Heart flash ahead of them and follows the trail of lightning to the open rec space, face softening at the sight of his sister and her partner on the other side of the thick glass with Marc, Sam, and August’s double.

“Mr. Snart-Rory.” He turns to see Amanda Waller herself standing above them. “Did you really think this was wise?”

They stare silently at each other for a long moment before Len gestures to Sam, the fire of the mirror gun muffled by the glass wall, the Rogues on the far side vanishing into the mirror before the closer side ripples, Lisa’s hand reaching through. Hartley takes it first, disappearing through, and Waller can only watch Len’s people leave her impenetrable walls.

“I got a question for you, too, Warden Waller,” he answers evenly, watching Mick pass through before he steps up to the mirror. “Did you really think it was wise to cross the Rogues?”

He only narrowly stops himself from flipping her off before he steps through to the portal to go home.

#Execute The Plan; plot post #violence/#long post/

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kurtbastian-land · 7 years ago

Text

Conversations

Pairing(s): Kurt Hummel/Sebastian Smythe, mention!Kurt Hummel/OMC

Summary: Kurt knows he shouldn’t blame himself for his previous relationship. But sometimes, he couldn’t help but thinks he deserves what was coming at him.

Warning: Mentions of previous abusive relationship

A/N: This little fic has been derived from a conversation with a friend awhile ago and I figured it fitted really well with the ‘Seeking Solace’ verse.

Fingers laced, crickets chirping in the background of what would otherwise be a silent night. Leaves under the couple’s feet crunched as they walked down their usual pathway down the park, hands swinging slightly, footsteps in sync. Conversations were never needed for the couple whenever they decided to go out for a stroll into the night. It was more of a silent reassurance that they were still together at the end of the day. No rolling of eyes, no snarky remarks, no words. Just the two of them in each other’s presence.

But not tonight. Tonight was the night of important conversations. They might not know the significance of this particular conversation because it has brought nothing but bad memories and feelings. But they’ll come to realise it, eventually.

“Something’s been on your mind the entire day,” Sebastian commented, his thumb gently stroking the palm of Kurt’s hand that was in his grasp, “what’s up?”

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows as he stopped walking, turning his head to look at his boyfriend in surprise. Sebastian simply rolled his eyes and tugged the former’s hand, directing the both of them to a nearby bench to take a seat.

“You kept drifting in and out of conversations throughout dinner just now. You seemed… worried,” voiced laced with concern, Sebastian continued prompting, “did something happen? It’s not your dad, is it? Didn’t you have your weekly call home a couple of days?”

Smiling gently, Kurt squeezed the hand that was still in his, relishing the warmth it was providing against the chilly night.

“It’s nothing big really…” Kurt paused when Sebastian gave him a pointed look at the statement, “it’s just…”

Pausing for awhile as he struggled to find words to put the thoughts, that were running all over his head, across to Sebastian so that he would understand.

“Was there ever a point in time where,” Kurt looked at his fingers that were absentmindedly playing with the latter’s, “where you thought that I was to be blamed in my relationship with him? That I did something to deserve to… you know… get hit?”

It wasn’t that he wholeheartedly blamed himself for the situation he got himself in his previous relationship. He knew that hitting was never the answer or solution to a problem but he also knew that people out there who would put blame on the victim in an abusive relationship. And on some days, he was one of those people.

Why didn’t you just leave when he first hit you? Why couldn’t you just tell someone? Why didn’t you fight back? Why couldn’t you just get up and leave? Why did you stay?

He was faced with such questions when news got around about his relationship. No doubt that they were on his side but those questions with hidden judgements that were constantly being thrown at him, would say otherwise. Like he had the power to put a stop to things but for some reason, he didn’t, he couldn’t.

Bracing himself for an answer he pretty sure he doesn’t want to hear, Kurt looked up and gave Sebastian forced grin, “you can tell me honestly if you ever thought of that you know? I blamed myself for awhile when I was with him so why won’t you right?”

Untangling his hand from Kurt’s, Sebastian cupped the latter’s face, staring softly into his boyfriend’s glasz eyes. “Hey, listen. I would never ever think that you’re to blame for that shitty excuse for person’s actions.”

“Well, you know what they say, it takes two hands to clap, two to tango and all that stuff,” Kurt feebly pointed out, eyes already welling up with tears but he refuses to cry over something that has been long over.

“I know him Bas. I know what ticks him off. I know the consequences I would be dealing with if and when I shut him off during an argument but I still do it.”

Sebastian bit his lip as he wrecked his brains to think of the right things to say that could help lessen the unnecessary guilt Kurt was feeling. Leaning forward to place a kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead.

“But you don’t see others hitting each other just because they’re upset. And you know why?” Sebastian paused for awhile, making sure that Kurt was really listening to him, “because it’s wrong regardless. So what if there were things that you did that make him unhappy? Intentionally or not, he has a hundred ways to get his point across and hitting should have never ever be a way.”

His statement was unexpectedly met with silence from the latter before shaking his head quickly, blinking his tears away as he stood up.

“You’re right, what he did was wrong. I shouldn’t even be so hung up about it, it’s over and I managed to get away scat free,” words rushed out, not allowing Sebastian to cut in, “not a single broken bone or black eye. Just a few bruises here and there…”

“Babe…”

“I’m one of the lucky one. There are people out there, somewhere, who are still stuck, desperate to get out,”

“Baby.”

“And here I am, with you, happy and loved and yet I’m still complaining and whining about something that happened 3 years ago.”

“Kurt!”

Kurt jumped slightly in surprise at the call of his name. He felt a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders, pulling him into a tight but familiar hug. It’s taken him months to get used to Sebastian’s touch when they officially got together. But slowly, he began to learn the differences, the way he would be able to fit snugly into Sebastian’s neck, how Sebastian’s touch was firm but gentle at the same time. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around Sebastian’s waist and bury his face into the latter’s warmth.

“It’s okay to cry, Kurt.”

And he did. This time, he doesn’t cry as an aftermath of an argument with Sebastian. He doesn’t cry for the fear that his relationship was going to be repeated mistake. This time, he cries for himself, for holding onto the hurt and pain he suffered in silence for two years. He cries for all the time he had to hold back his tears in fear of a lashing. He cries for all the friendship he had to end. The friendship he tried rebuilding but failing eventually. Soon the once silent night with crickets chirping is filled with muffled sobs and hiccups along with words loves that goes with it.

“I may not know what are the right things to say or how I can exactly help you when you’re feeling this way,” Sebastian said as he ran his fingers through Kurt’s hair, knowing it helps to soothe the latter, “but just know that whatever happened between you and Jason, is never ever your fault.”

He felt the grip around him tightened at the statement, unsure if the gesture was meant as an agreement or argument, Sebastian continued, “I know you Kurt Hummel. I’ve seen your good days and your bad days. I’ve been with you through your ups and downs. And I am one hundred percent certain, that his action was just a result of a poor decision.”

Kurt gently gnawed on his lips as he allowed himself to try to understand what Sebastian was trying to say. He does understand. He could hear countless stories about other’s being abused – physically, emotionally or mentally, and always come up with the same conclusion. It was never their fault. So why can’t he feel the same about his own situation?

“I’m trying you know,” Kurt whispered so softly that Sebastian wasn’t sure if he was even meant to hear it.

Sebastian simply brought Kurt closer to his shoulder, silently urging him to rest his head on it. He honestly felt as lost Kurt feels. They rarely bring up Kurt’s previous relationship or the wounds that came along with it. It was a topic of discussion that they would always approach with caution. But it was this moment that led Sebastian to realise that he is determined to be there for Kurt as long as he wants him to, every step of the way. It was the moment that he knew that he loved him.

“I know sweetheart,” Sebastian whispered as he placed his chin on the top of Kurt’s head, “I know.”

#kurtbastian #kurtbastian fic #kurt hummel #sebastian smythe #mentions of previous abusive relationship #my fic

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schrijfpen-blog · 7 years ago

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Beckoning Dreams Ch. 3

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“So how was it?”

I cradle the phone between my shoulder and cheek as I place my mail on my desk for later. “It was amazing,” I tell Paris over the phone. “Well, he was amazing. I was stupid.” I groan a bit, as I think back to how awkward I was during the date.

“Did you spill the cake on his shirt? It looked pretty expensive.”

I let out a strangled sound that may or may not have been a choke. “I did not!”

“Oh.” I sure hope that isn’t disappointment I hear in Paris’ voice. “Then what?”

“Just,” I sigh, switching the phone to speaker as I drop onto my bed, letting my phone fall next to my head. “It was hard to talk, somehow...”

“I can think of a lot of things I’d rather do with that guy, other than talk,” Paris says with a chuckle, and I can imagine her licking her lips suggestively, like she does whenever she sees there are still cupcakes left after work.

A small laugh leaves my lips. “Not like that, it’s something different. Like...” I struggle to find the right words to describe my dilemma. “It’s like there is this haze in my head every time he’s near.” I decide that is the best way to say it. I can think so clearly, now that he’s not around. However, if he were to show up, I just know, I’ll practically go mute again, following along with whatever he wants.

It’s actually a little scary!

“-Aaaand you’re not listening.”

Paris’ voice snaps me out of my thoughts, causing me to let out a highly intelligent, “Huh...?”

Paris sighs on the other end of the line. “Honey, at least pretend to listen to me.”

“I’m really sorry,” I apologise quickly, “I was lost in thought...”

“About Dante?” Paris guesses, correctly.

“Yeah.” I admit, sheepishly.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I was talking about him, too.”

I laugh a little, shaking my head slightly.

“So, did you ask him if he has a twin brother?” Paris asks.

I clear my throat. “No...” I trail off. I almost asked him at one point, but hadn’t. I didn’t want Dante to think of me as weird... even though he probably thought that anyway. Nice going, me!

“What if I miss my chance for romance because you’re not checking if my future husband exists?”

I smile at the joking tone in her voice. “What if he has a sister?”

There is a slight pause, before Paris replies, “Then ask him if she looks manly and resembles him closely.”

I burst into laughter, giggles coming out from her end of the phone, too.

“So? Did you plan another date?” Paris asks, once our laughter had calmed down.

“He hinted for a second date, but...” I trail off.

“But?” Paris urges me.

“We didn’t make anything concrete, so...” I sigh, “I don’t know, maybe he was just saying it to be nice.”

“Surely you weren’t that horrible. You were just quiet, it’s not like you called his mother a llama or something, right?”

“Right,” I agree. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I was a boring date...”

“Most people have an awkward first date, don’t worry about it.” Paris comforts me in a cheerful voice.

“Yeah. I guess you’re right...” Turning the phone off speaker, I place it against my ear and get up. Paris comforts me with tales of some of her first dates with guys, while I move to the window, looking outside.

Movement catches my eye, and I must have let out a small sound, because Paris immediately asks me what’s wrong. The words barely register as I lean out of my window a bit, looking at the deserted street. “Nothing...” I say finally, letting out the breath I didn’t even realise I was holding. “I thought I saw someone, but it was probably a cat or something.”

“Are you sure?” Paris asks worriedly. “Maybe someone is there, you should call Luca.”

“It’s nothing.” I say, shaking my head even though Paris can’t see. “Just my imagination.”

“Well if you’re sure...” Paris murmurs, though she still sounds worried.

“Everything is okay, don’t worry,” I smile a little. “If there really is someone, I’ll call Luca.”

“If there is someone you should call the police,” Paris corrects, before adding an afterthought, “and then Luca, he’ll be there sooner.”

“Yeah, okay,” I say. It just makes me happier to know that there is no one here. After how we left off, I don’t really want to call Luca, though I have no doubt in my mind that he would come to my rescue no matter what. He really is a great friend, and remembering our fight just kills the good mood I had gotten from talking to Paris.

“Hey, I should go.”

“Is there someone there after all?” Paris asks, and I think I can hear her open a bag of chips at her end of the phone.

I smile a bit. “No, there isn’t. It’s just...”

“Just?” Paris urges.

“Well,” I sigh, before flopping back down on my bed. “Luca saw me returning with Dante... He was pretty unhappy.” I sigh.

“Well of course he was; the girl he likes went out with another guy. Who wouldn’t be unhappy?”

Everything in my head slows to a stop, and I utter a relatively unintelligent, “Huh?”

“Oh please?” Paris snorts, and I just know she’s rolling her eyes. “Don’t pretend you don’t know, Kiara. It’s so obvious!”

I laugh a little. “Paris, you have it all wrong. Luca doesn’t like me in that way.” It’s a little amusing that she would think so. “We grew up together, we’re practically siblings. Him liking me would be like, you know, incest.”

There is a slightly awkward silence coming from Paris’ end. I don’t blame her; she’s probably embarrassed at her mistake. I won’t hold it against her though; other people have made that mistake through the years. “He was probably just worried, though...” I sigh softly, closing my eyes. “I was really unfair to him. I should go and apologise, and talk it out,” I decide.

“Yeah, you should do that...” Paris says, sounding absent minded.

“Though, I guess it’s late now. I’ll go by his place tomorrow before class instead,” I decide.

Ever since I can remember, Luca has been by my side. I really hate it when we fight. Fortunately we always make up really fast. Hopefully we can do so this time, too.

“Yeah, you do that...” Paris clears her throat and switches the subject, “How is Matt?”

I sigh, “I don’t know. He’s mostly been keeping to himself, in his room.”

“Still no luck with him?” Paris asks sympathetically.

“Nope, still nothing...” I murmur.

“When are you parents coming home, anyway?”

“I’m not sure.” I think for a moment, “Mom’s new movie is almost out, so I guess she’ll come back for a short while, soon; after the premiere and before the movie starts playing everywhere.”

“Must be hard, being the dirty little secret of a celeb.” Paris teases.

“Hey!” I try to sound indignant, but I laugh anyway, Paris laughing with me.

“Why don’t you call and tell them about this?” Paris asks once we’ve calmed down a bit. “You speak with them all the time, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want them to worry when they are too far away to actually help...”

“I guess I can understand that.”

I smile slightly, closing my eyes. “At any rate, it’s pretty late now, and I tried to hang up before...” I tease.

Paris giggles softly, “Oh I’m sorry,” she says, not sounding sorry at all.

“Yeah, you should be,” I reply, laughing. “I’ll see you in two days, okay?”

“Okay, take care. And if you hear from Dante, let me know, would you?”

“You’re really interested in him,” I laugh a little, trying to ignore the odd feeling in my chest.

“Who wouldn’t be? My bestie is a hot guy magnet- I’ll keep you around.”

“There is no getting rid of me anyway,” I say, “You’re permanently stuck with me. Good night, Paris.”

“Good night, Kiara.” Paris makes her usual kissy sound before she hangs up.

I lay there for a moment before I get up from my bed, and walk to Matt’s room. I can faintly hear him typing on his laptop, and the muffled sound of music booming through headphones.

I sigh touching the door lightly. “Good night,” I murmur, before letting my hand drop, and head back to my room to sleep.

My last thoughts are of Dante, and his mysterious mauve eyes...

“Here we are again,” Dante murmurs as he nears me, the incense of the now familiar room entering my nose.

“This dream...” I murmur.

A smirk plays on his lips as he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me closer, our thighs touching.

“Is it really?” he whispers huskily, and my voice catches in my throat.

His touches, this room... Everything feels so real... Is this really a dream? It’s so hard to tell. His hand slowly travels up my back, leaving goose bumps in its wake.

“You are beautiful,” He murmurs, eyes never leaving mine.

My heart skips a beat as he picks me up, before gently lowering me onto the bed.

“This time... No more interruptions.” he murmurs, sliding his hand along my leg slowly.

Not a single part in my mind wishes to object.

I wake up, flushed and strangely exhausted. For a moment I simply stare at the ceiling in a slight daze.

What happened?

No, I know the answer to that question. Feeling a bit embarrassed, I slowly sit up.

I can’t believe I had that kind of a dream about him. How am I supposed to look him in the eye, the next time we meet? Assuming we’ll meet again...

Skin on skin... Groans echoing in the dim room. The candles casting shadows on his naked skin, his mauve eyes practically glowing in the semi darkness...

A flush works its way up to my neck, and I quickly move out of bed.

The room shifts around me as I stumble, my legs feeling like they’re made of jelly, but I am able to grab onto my wall; just in time to prevent me from falling.

“With a dream like that, no wonder I’m tired,” I mumble.

I can just imagine Paris’ face, should she even find out... It’s important that she never will.

Trying to shake the far too realistic dream off, I make my way to the bathroom for a much needed cold shower.

I’m sure I’ll feel better after eating breakfast anyway.

In the end I was so nervous that I couldn’t eat a single bite of my food, though it has little to do with the dream. I’m not sure when was the last time that I felt so nervous simply about ringing Luca’s doorbell. He was the one who came to me the last time we fought, though I’m not sure you can call our disagreement an actual fight... Or is it one? Does Luca think it’s one? Wetting my dry lips, my finger hovers over the door bell. After a few minutes I finally gather my courage, and push the door bell.

I can hear footsteps approaching the door and judging from the sound of heels on the hardwood floor, I’m willing to bet it’s not Luca.

The woman who opens the door has long, wavy, golden blonde hair and baby blue eyes. She is tall, and fit. I have always thought Luca’s mother is beautiful. It’s like she didn’t age a bit in the past twenty years.

“Kiara.” Merideth smiles beautifully at me, and for a moment I hope that she is about to tell me that Luca isn’t home. She stares at me, smile faltering from her lips, but it comes back before I can ask if something is wrong. “Luca is in his room. You’re here for him, right?”

“Ah... Yes, thanks,” I smile at her, a little unsure. Is something wrong? Though her face right now doesn’t show that anything is.

Merideth’s presence never fails to comfort me. One of my more embarrassing childhood memories is that I asked Luca if his mother was an angel; I can still remember the shocked look he gave me, even now.

After walking up the familiar stairs to Luca’s room, I pause in front of his door. I’m still a little upset, but I know he was just looking out for me, and it’s not like he was wrong, so...

“Luca?” I call, before grabbing the door handle. “I’m coming in.” I open the door and step inside. Luca’s room is white and orderly as always, religious artifacts here and there.

“Ah!” Luca glances up at me, standing in his jeans in the middle of shrugging on his shirt. His bare back is turned to me, the slightly tanned skin flawless, save for the two slash scars on his shoulder-blades; apparently a result of an accident when he was younger.

“You can’t just come in here like that. I’m a guy, you know?” He protests, as he pulls his shirt over his head, finishing getting dressed.

Paris’ words come to mind again. Luca liking me... Hah, there is no way.

“What is it?” Luca asks, looking at the socks he’s putting on rather than at me. Obviously he’s still annoyed about yesterday, too. I can’t blame him; I was more than a little harsh...

I clear my throat before straightening up, as if that will give me courage. “About yesterday...” I trail off.

His shoulders tense up slightly. “What about it?”

I open my mouth, only to close it again. In the end I utter a, “I’m sorry for being so harsh, when you were just worried... I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, before he shakes his head. “There are things you don’t understand.”

I frown in response. That is definitely not what I expected to hear in answer to my apology. It’s agitating. “So then make me understand.” I say, my voice a little sharper than I intended, “Make me understand why you practically attacked Dante. Make me understand why you hate him, even though I doubt you actually know him. Make me understand why-”

“I do know him,” Luca interrupts me, effectively ending my rant. “I know of him.” He glances up at me with a slight frown. “That demon,” he practically spits out the word demon. “He’s a womanizer. I don’t want to see you fall prey to that.”

I purse my lips together. “Dante isn’t like that at all.” We haven’t known each other for long, so I’m not sure where this conviction comes from, but... When we are together, the way he looks at me... It’s like I am the only woman in the world for him.

He grabs my arm, and I try not to think of how Dante had touched the exact same place in my dream. Luca’s blue gaze is honest, urgent. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. He devours-”

“No, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” I interrupt. “And I didn’t come here to make up just so that we could fight even more. I don’t want to talk about this, Luca.”

He mutters something under his breath that I can’t quite pick up before he shakes his head. “You’re right, this isn’t getting us anywhere,” he sighs and pats the bed next to him.

I walk over slightly reluctantly, before sitting down a bit away from him.

Luca sends me a sideways look before he snorts, reaching out and pulling me closer to his body before he drops backwards on the bed, dragging me down with him.

My gaze immediately goes to his painted ceiling; it’s beautiful as always, painted like a nice blue sky with fluffy white clouds; the sunlight peeking out from behind the clouds. Luca painted it sometime during our high school years, and I remember it took him a good two weeks.

I relax a bit in Luca’s loose hold, as we quietly stare up at the ceiling. Just like that, I know we are okay.

Soon enough a knock on the door interrupts our ceiling-gazing.

"Breakfast is ready~" Merideth calls out. "You're joining us for breakfast, right Kiara?"

Even though she asks me, I’m sure she’s already counting on it. I guess it’s a good thing that I was unable to eat this morning.

"Yeah, I guess I am," I smile a bit as I sit up on Luca's bed, Luca dragging himself up into a sitting position next to me.

As I predicted, the table in the pristine dining room is set for three people. Merideth is always so open. Whenever I come over, even when it's unannounced, there is always a plate waiting for me.

We sit down at our usual places, and after their breakfast prayers, it's time to eat.

"So how is school going?" Merideth asks me, glancing up after pouring her cereal.

"It's going pretty good," I smile slightly, while preparing my own breakfast. "I did pretty good on the last tests."

"If you did, you should teach Luca," Merideth snorts a bit, "He didn't do well at all."

"Hey, I did just fine!" Luca interrupts from next to me.

"You barely passed," Merideth rolls her eyes.

I laugh a bit, watching them bicker back and forth. It's moments like these that make me miss my own parents, but I don’t let that bring me down.

“Instead of talking about those things, ask how her auction is going,” Luca scowls, stabbing at his food with his fork.

“Oh! That’s right! It’s that time of the year again, isn’t it?” Merideth’s smile turns to me. “How is it going? Do you need any help?”

“Oh no, I think I’ll be fine,” I assure quickly, shaking my head.

“Besides, she’s already making me slave for her, you don’t need to help,”

“Hey!” I kick Luca’s shin under the table, earning myself a hiss and a small glare, and a return kick.

“Well I think that you’re doing a nice thing every year, hosting a charity auction,” Merideth’s soothing words break our childish shenanigans apart.

“Thank you...” I blush a little at the praise, glancing back at my plate and taking another bite.

"Still no boyfriend, huh?"

Merideth's question makes me choke on my food a bit, and Luca is quick to drop his fork on his plate and pat my back. For a split second, my mind goes to Dante, but then I banish the thought. He's not my boyfriend.

Rather than be concerned about my health, Merideth laughs at my response. "You know, my Luca is still single, too~"

"Mom!" Luca's eyes widen for a moment, before they narrow.

"I know," I cough one last time, before my breathing evens out again, my chest aching a bit. I'm pretty sure I'd know if he'd get a girlfriend... well, or a boyfriend, I guess. It's odd... All these years and I've never seen him interested in a girl... Again, Paris' and my conversation from last night comes to mind, but I shake the thought off. I'm not even sure why I thought about it again.

"Anyway, you two eat up now. You still have to get ready for school, right?" Merideth says, shaking her head a bit as she goes back to eating.

"Yeah..." I say before glancing at Luca, his hand still on my back. "Thanks," I smile.

Luca glances away, pausing from glaring at his mother, to send me a kind smile, "No problem."

A few moments pass, before his eyes widen and he seems to realise his hand is still on my back, "Oh!" He quickly pulls it back.

I laugh a little, shaking my head before going back to eating my breakfast.

Once breakfast is over, I head back to my house. Matt has already left, judging by the lack of his favourite coat. I’m not sure exactly where he’s gone since he’s suspended, I just hope he won’t get into trouble... One glance in the fridge confirms he hasn’t touched the food the housekeeper has left, again.

I close the fridge with a sigh. This is the fourth time this week. I’ll have to try to bring it up again when he comes home tonight. I hope he’s at least eating somewhere else.

With a heavy heart that I get in my car and start to leave for school. Matt has been so different lately, so closed off... He used to be such a good kid, and we used to get along so well. But now he keeps getting into trouble; stealing, lying, fighting... No matter what I do, I can’t seem to get through to him. And then there is the matter of mom and dad... I shake my head. Blaming them would be too easy. No matter what Matt’s teachers think, this isn’t because they’re never here. Of course it probably has something to do with it, but...

Movement catches my attention from the corner of my eye.

Black, mauve...

I nearly hit the brakes, a decidedly bad idea; I am on one of the busiest roads right now. It’d cause an accident for sure... Besides, how would Dante even be here?

“I need to stop thinking of him so much...” I mutter with a small groan, trying hard not to recall last night’s dream.

Smooth pale skin... Alluring mauve eyes that look solely at me...

I nearly run a red light, but manage to hit the brakes just in time.

“What is going on...” I groan, dropping my forehead on the steering wheel. I just can’t get him out of my mind, that beautiful, sinful man. Though, considering my dream, aren’t I the sinful one? All the things going on in my sub- consciousness, I never felt this way about anyone before. What is going on...?

A car honking startles me out of my thoughts, and I quickly sit up straight. The traffic light is green. I quickly continue driving. This isn’t like me, so focused on a guy. Is my family cursed? Both Matt and I are acting completely different from normal.

I really want to sleep, I’m so tired...

I don’t know how I got through today’s classes without sleeping. To be completely honest, I doubt that I did. I’m pretty sure I dozed off at least twice. How do I know this?

Because I doubt Dante would actually whisper my name while I’m in class, especially considering how no one else heard it, and he wasn’t actually there.

“Kiara,” Oh look, there is my imagination standing next to my car as I enter the parking lot. My imagination is more amazing than I thought; the deep way my name is spoken sends shivers down my spine. I open my bag to grab my car keys. Odd, my wallet isn’t in my bag... Did I lose it? Or am I so tired that I forgot to put it in my bag this morning?

“Kiara,” Dante’s voice is no less alluring than it had been before, and the way he furrows his brows while gently touching my bangs startles me. He’s not a figment of my imagination, he’s actually here.

“Ignoring me... Did I displease you in any way?” He murmurs sadly.

“A-Ah...” I’m not sure exactly what I should say, my thoughts muddled again. Why is it always like this? Whenever I meet his eyes, it just becomes so hard to think.

“No...” I mumble, shaking my head.

A slight smile grows on his lips. “I’m glad,” he murmurs, touching the hairs behind my ear as he leans down slightly, lowering his face to mine. “So glad...”

My heart skips a beat, and I find myself leaning up slightly, to accept his kiss.

“How did you find me?” I whisper. I can’t believe he’s really here, and not just a figment of my imagination.

“You told me you went to school here during our date. I thought I’d pick you up.” He whispers back, his eyes not leaving mine for even a second.

Did I tell him? I don’t remember, but right now I don’t remember that much anyway.

His breath hits my lip and he leans down to close the gap-

“STAY AWAY FROM KIARA, YOU DEMON!”

Luca!? I look up, breaking away from Dante in surprise as Luca comes running towards us at full speed. For a moment it looks like something rips through his shirt, growing out of his shoulder blades, before there is this blinding white light-

- And then everything goes dark.

#|| Story || Beckoning Dreams #chap #romance stor #Supernatural

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